


A Dish Best Served Cold

by MistressLynn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Banter, Complete, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Head Girl Hermione Granger, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, I tried to upend some cringeworthy Dramione tropes, Library Sex, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Locker Room, Love Potion/Spell, Mystery, Oral Sex, POV Draco Malfoy, POV Hermione Granger, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Public Sex, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Romance, Rough Sex, Sex, Sex Magic, Smut, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:28:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 66,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26730661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistressLynn/pseuds/MistressLynn
Summary: Somebody is out to get Hermione. Draco gets caught in the middle, and doesn't mind at all!post HBP, non-DH compliant"Look at her," Blaise pondered about Granger some more, and then he grinned maliciously. "There's no way you can fake that."Draco’s eyes narrowed at Blaise. "What?""I don't think it's a joke. At least, not one from her. Someone must have spiked her pumpkin juice, or something. She wouldn't be pulling a prank in a classroom where she'd risk getting detention and house points docked. Especially with Snape.""Hmm," was Draco's non-committal reply as he watched her squirm and wipe her throat and chest area. He wouldn't mind licking her there. "Actually, that makes a lot of sense…"Draco smirked devilishly at her. This was going to be fun.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Lavender Brown/Ron Weasley
Comments: 136
Kudos: 507





	1. Monday

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: In its use of intellectual property and characters belonging to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, Bloomsbury Publishing, et cetera, this work is intended to be transformative commentary on the original. No profit is being made from this work.
> 
> Beta Readers: Gryffindor_Slytherin, AuntLynnie, Lorcalon, BlueArtemis, Pagan
> 
> This is my first fanfic. A light and smutty whodunit. Hopefully funny with a plot worked in there somewhere. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter 1 - Monday**

"Yes!"

Satisfied, the reader slammed the _Moste Potente Potions_ volume shut with a smile and levitated it back to its rightful place on the shelf. Shoving the copied parchments into their satchel, the student turned and purposely strode out of the library with none the wiser.

The plan was perfect.

_Perfect!_

All that was needed now was an object from either Crabbe or Goyle, and Miss Swottiest Witch of Her Age would be the laughing stock of Hogwarts. Somebody needed to take her down a notch or two. And if everything went according to plan, it would be tomorrow.

Which one would be more humiliating? Crabbe or Goyle? A low chuckle sounded. Would it matter? The chuckle expanded into a loud laugh as the student exited the library.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione glanced at the clock and sighed. 

Still another twenty-five minutes to go. Usually she didn’t mind double Potions with the Slytherins. Tensions between the two houses had eased somewhat since Voldemort had been defeated. There were still grudges, residual prejudices, and the occasional fight but so far, this class was uneventful. Too uneventful. No snide comments came from Snape and no confrontations occurred between the students either. Her potion was near complete and without anything else to do, she found that lack of conflict made for a boring lesson.

Hermione was getting agitated. The weather was so nice outside and she was itching to go for a run. It was a long day and she had been cooped up in the castle without any free periods. Several months ago, she found that exercising a few times a week significantly cut down her stress level. Not only that, but she was able to concentrate better on her work, making her more efficient. In actuality, the time taken for exercise saved her time in the long run. Time which she filled in with extra reading, of course. She was fully aware that she had obsessive compulsive tendencies with regards to her studies. No matter, there were worse things to obsess over. Ultimately, her work ethic served her well in school and would serve her well in the future.

Hermione and her partner, Neville, were almost done. The potion was not a straightforward one, but she had already read up on today's assignment. She knew what to do in order to avoid the common pitfalls most amateur potioneers made when making the blood restorative potion. _Speaking of which_ , she thought as she glanced over at Harry and Ron, who did not seem to be faring so well.

Neville was calmly alternating between stirring the dark blue, viscous liquid clockwise and counter-clockwise every two and a half minutes, as prescribed, while the cauldron simmered on low. In the meantime, she marked down which direction he had done last so that they would know which to do next, and flipped the sandglass. They had arrived at the easy part and would collect a sample to give to Snape after three more stirs with the oak wood spoon.

Hermione scanned the room, and saw that Lavender and Parvati seemed to be almost done as well. She observed them with disinterest. Parvati was certainly the brains of those two. Dean and Seamus looked like they were in trouble. Some of the other Gryffindors were still on the earlier stages of the potion and would probably not finish all of the required stirring. According to the textbook, the blood restorative potion would not work to its full capacity without every last stir.

On the Slytherin side of the classroom, Malfoy was leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the table, giving Crabbe orders. Crabbe was alternating between stirring and scribbling attentively with a quill. She rolled her eyes.

 _Typical_ , she thought. _What a spoiled git._

Crabbe spooned their dark blue liquid into a vial. She hated to admit, but it appeared that they, too, had finished with a perfect potion.

Hermione yawned. The minutes ticked by slowly. She needed to run and wake herself up. Thankfully, Neville finished the last stir and she spooned it into a vial.

"Good job, Neville. I think we'll get full marks for today," she said.

He blushed, "Thanks, Hermione. It's all because of you."

She looked up at him and shook her head. "Nonsense. You're good with your hands and I don't have to worry about ingredient preparation while reading from my notes and the textbook. I think we make a good team."

"Me too." He smiled down at her.

Hermione was comfortable working with Neville. It was a good pairing as far as the both of them were concerned, and he _was_ extremely good with his hands. A skill that served him well in Professor Strout's classes. They split the work with her delegating which tasks to do, as she had a better understanding of how to make potions more efficiently, and with better results. He didn't mind being ordered around - she knew she was a bit bossy - and did as she asked without complaint. In the end, they both got good grades and enjoyed their friendship.

The end of the class was near.

"Time is up," Snape drawled. "Bring your samples to my desk and clean up your work stations."

Students scrambled around in a flurry, trying to quickly finish any remaining steps that they hadn't had time for while cleaning up at the same time. Ingredients spilled, students jostled one another, breaking glass was heard after a muttered curse, and after fifteen chaotic minutes, the class emptied and everyone filtered down the hallway to common rooms, the library, and outside as the school day came to a close.

"Crabbe!" sounded an annoyed voice. "My quill!"

Crabbe turned around. He had forgotten his quill today and borrowed one from Draco.

"Oh, um…" He opened his satchel and looked around inside, pawing through his books and parchments. He padded himself down with his hands. "Uh…" He opened his satchel again but to no avail.

Draco raised an eyebrow at him.

"Maybe, uh, I'll go back to the classroom…" Crabbe said, as he tried in vain to look into his bag again. "I had it just before everyone started to clean up!"

Draco sighed and turned to walk down the hall. "Never mind, it's just a quill."

00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

After changing into a tank top and shorts, Hermione began her lap around the grounds. She stayed away from the most obvious place to run, the Quidditch pitch, as she didn't want to be bothered by the teams practicing. Running there in the past resulted in the occasional snide remark about her running and the revealing clothing that she normally wouldn't be caught dead wearing. Keeping to the perimeter of the grounds ensured that she wouldn't meet any students, although she did occasionally see Hagrid when she came around by his hut. He found her running amusing since she wasn't a Quidditch player. Apparently, exercising for the sake of staying fit hadn't caught on in the wizarding world. Most likely because there were potions available that ensured good health and shrunk fat, but they were costly.

Hermione's feet pounded on the grass; she enjoyed the feel of the sun on her face and arms. Her bushy hair was tied back in a pony tail, tickling her shoulder blades. She had been running for about an hour now. When she first started jogging regularly, she could barely run for ten minutes without falling over with exhaustion and nausea. Horcrux hunting had left her underweight and gaunt. Now, after spending some time strengthening her body and learning to control her breathing, she found that she could continue much longer, but didn't exceed an hour. Her knees would bother her if she did. Instead, she pushed herself to increase her pace. She could now do one and two-thirds of the perimeter in an hour. She was trying to work up to two laps.

It was a beautiful run. She passed by the Forbidden Forest, the Black Lake, and saw the highlands of Scotland in the distance. She especially liked running at this time of day, when the sun began to set.

Hermione looked down at her mechanical watch. An hour was up and unfortunately, she was still at one and two-thirds of the perimeter. She slowed down and walked the rest of the way back to her starting point near the Quidditch pitch where she kept her belongings in a bag. She breathed in deeply, measuring her breaths. She was sweaty, bright red, and her heart was pounding. She smiled, loving the feeling right after a run. It was just what she needed after a long day of classes. After doing some arm and ab exercises and stretching, she slipped on a pair of loose fitting trousers over her shorts and exchanged her tank top for a loose T-shirt before heading back to the castle.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

A pair of eyes from the Prefect's bathroom watched as Hermione entered the castle doors.

_Stuck up bitch._

As a precaution, the bathroom door was bolted shut, but nobody would be going in there any time soon. People were mostly at dinner. The Prefect's bathroom only started to get some use after seven o'clock in the evening. There was plenty of time.

The heat to the cauldron had to be adjusted so that the white liquid would boil before adding Crabbe's quill. Carefully though. The potion had to be at just the right temperature and level of acidity so that the quill would completely dissolve, which made it dangerous to touch. Overall, it was a simple potion and didn't take much time or skill to make. It would be done in about five minutes, with another ten minutes to cool down. Assuming that another few minutes were needed to clear all of the traces of having brewed the potion in the Prefect's bathroom, everything would be finished shortly.

The student was careful in adding the quill. In addition to being potentially burned by acid, touching the potion was just as potent as ingesting it.

Next, it needed to be administered to Hermione. Fortunately, that part had already been figured out. It would just require a bit of sneakiness. The eyes turned to the mirror to see a wide smirk facing back.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione ran up the stairs to the fourth floor two at a time, energized by her workout. She was taken by surprise as the stairs swiveled to the east hallway while she was halfway up and grabbed the hand railing to keep from falling over, waited until the stairs had completed their moving, and walked up the rest of the way.

She preferred a nice bath after exercising, and upon making her way down the hallway, she knocked on the door to the Prefect's bathroom. Turning the handle, she frowned. It was locked. She called out, but nobody answered. Although it was against the rules, she knew that the Prefects brought their significant others here to snog. A locked door with no answer usually meant that was precisely what was happening.

She sniffed in indignation and turned to go.

_What was that?_

She could smell a strong lemony scent coming from the bathroom. She leaned closer to the door and sniffed again. Almost like lemon scented dish liquid. Did the tap have lemon-scented water? She didn't think so. She crinkled her nose. The dish soapy smell wasn't particularly appealing as a body soap or bath additive.

 _Oh well_ , she thought. _A quick shower would have to do._

She trudged back downstairs and stopped at the Great Hall to pick up a sandwich before heading back up towards Gryffindor Tower. Ginny met her along the stairs, her bag looking unusually heavy, and they headed up together. It almost looked like she was carrying a cauldron from the shape of it.

Hermione was about to question the contents of her bag when Ginny made an exaggerated show of sniffing Hermione and recoiled in disgust.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh sod off, Ginny. Your Quidditch uniform alone could wipe out all the plant and animal life within a five mile radius. Blast ended skrewts included. "

Ginny grinned. "The Order should have sent you into battle after one of your runs. The Death Eaters would have begged to be sent to Azkaban just to breathe the fresh air. Begged!"

Hermione snorted.

"Did you get up to two laps yet?"

"Not yet," Hermione admitted.

"You will," her friend said encouragingly. "I'll join you next time. I'm sick of running around the Quidditch pitch, unless Harry's in front of me and I can watch his arse." Ginny sent Hermione a wicked smile.

"Spare me the details of Harry's anatomy, please?"

Ginny continued mercilessly. "Sometimes he takes his shirt off when he gets sweaty…. Now _his_ smell I don't mind! Once after Quidditch practice we - "

"Did I ever tell you what Ron's nasty bits look like?" Ginny shouldn't have started this game. Being a female Weasley, she was already at a serious disadvantage. Something Hermione was about to make _abundantly_ clear.

Ginny made a face. "Okay, okay, point made!"

Hermione continued, as if in thought, "I wonder if Fred and George are _completely_ identical. They probably compare the -"

"Gah! Stop!" Ginny pleaded.

"Percy probably shaves his hair into perfect right angles -"

"Oh my gosh I'm so sorry I said anything!" Ginny covered her face in horror.

"- on the other hand, the full moon probably makes Bill-"

"FOR THE LOVE OF-"

Ginny covered Hermione's mouth with her hand and Hermione laughed through her fingers. 

"Okay, you made your point!" Ginny suppressed giggles of her own. "No more talking about family members' anatomy."

"You said 'members,'" Hermione joked, and Ginny cackled.

Their laughter died down as they approached the Fat Lady and gave the password.

"To get back to our original conversation," Hermione said, stepping through the entrance, "you running with me is a good idea. I'd have to work harder to keep up."

"Right then, I'll bring a gas mask -ow!" Ginny laughed and then cried out as Hermione pinched her arm.

The girls entered the common room together and saw Harry and Ron wrestling on the couch. Ron made a sudden lunge at Lavender, who shrieked and bubbled with laughter.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, he could do so much better than her."

Ginny gave her a scolding look, worthy of Molly Weasley. "She's not so bad you know." She stared at Ron and Lavender in thought and then shifted her glanced to Hermione. "Are you sure you're not jealous? _You_ were the one who didn't want _him_."

Hermione shook her head quickly. "No, of course not. Nothing like that."

Ginny turned to her impatiently. "Then what is it? She plays with her hair and you roll your eyes, she makes a joke and you get irritated, she laughs and you look like you've eaten one of Fred and George's puking pastels! Everything she does is wrong in your eyes. It's not like you to be so openly intolerant of others."

"It's just..." Hermione faltered. _Was she really that terrible?_ "I guess... I still feel badly for not loving him in the same way that he loved me. I want him to have someone more deserving. He could do so much better than her."

They observed Ron tickling Lavender with a devious grin on his face. Harry jumped off the couch to avoid getting hit in the struggle.

Hermione contemplated the happy couple. "I am being unreasonable, aren't I?"

Ginny nodded.

"It's not as if she's nice to me," Hermione continued in a defensive voice.

"Seriously?" Ginny gave an exasperated sigh. "Were you ever nice to her?"

Hermione knew the answer to that question.

"Look at the big picture," Ginny continued. "They're both happy, and that should say something. Ron was really depressed for awhile," she said pointedly.

Hermione winced, that was a low blow. She still felt incredibly guilty about that, and Ginny knew it.

Ginny turned to go up to the girls' dormitories and Hermione followed her, lost in thought. As they headed up the stairs Ginny gave Harry, Ron, and Lavender a quick wave.

"Oi! Hermione!" Harry called out. "We have to breathe in here!"

Ron and Lavender laughed at Hermione's livid expression. Honestly, what was with them all? Did they think Quidditch made them immune from post-exercise stink?

She gave him a rude gesture which only made Ron and Lavender laugh harder, and turned back to Ginny, who could barely contain her mirth.

Hermione gave a small smile as they entered the dormitories and said, "I guess you're right. I'll be more accepting of her, and I'll try harder to be nice."

"Good," Ginny said, rubbing her arm. "Wouldn't it be better if our whole group got along well?"

"She really is a part of our group now, isn't she?" Hermione said, barely disguising her distaste.

"Yep," Ginny said pointedly.

"You're right," Hermione gave a resigned sigh, realizing that she'd have to accept this new normal, which wasn't even "new" anymore.

Ginny gave her a solemn look and patted her on the shoulder. "I know."

Hermione whacked her hand away and smiled. "Oh, shut it."

She tried to take her hair tie out of the sweaty mess of curls, and winced as they pulled painfully on her scalp.

"Arrrrgh!" Hermione growled. "This is the _worst_ part of my run. I _hate_ this rats' nest." She reached for her wand to perform a severing charm on her elastic and ended up nicking her finger instead. "Ugh!"

"You know," Ginny spoke slowly, as if she were afraid to continue. "Lavender would probably be able to help you with your hair."

Hermione successfully wrenched her hair out of the ponytail with a grunt, dreading the process of getting all the knots out. She glared at Ginny. "I said I'd be nice and accepting. I still have my pride, you know."

"Weeeeellllll......" Ginny smiled devilishly at her like she had been waiting for just this opportunity. "Then I'm going to give you your birthday present a month early."

"Pardon?"

But Ginny ran back to the sixth year dorms, heavy bag in tow, and returned with a small box.

"Open it!"

Hermione looked down curiously at the box Ginny held before her. Excitedly, she ripped open the wrappings and brought out a vial filled with a whitish fluid. She turned the bottle around and read the label.

It was a hair potion.

Her face fell. She hated hair products. Despite her bushy haired woes, they took too much time to use. She wasn't any good with them, couldn't be arsed to learn any of the charms she saw other girls in the dorm using and thought that taking the time to practice was beneath her.

"Now before you get all cranky, just hear me out." Ginny didn't miss a beat having expected Hermione's reaction. "This is an expensive, high quality potion. But you don't need to use it that often. Take the entire bottle and apply it once every three months and poof!" Her hands mimed a small explosion. "No more rats' nest. You'll have manageable, wavy hair. That's it. No work. See the directions?"

She pointed to the label on the bottle with the moving diagram. "After shampooing, you put it on and let it sit for an hour."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest.

"Oh shush! You can do your Ancient Runes homework or read _Hogwarts: A History_ for the 586th time while you wait."

Hermione snapped her mouth shut as Ginny continued, "Then you rinse it out and perform the permanency charm explained on the label. Easy."

Hermione looked the vial over, it certainly looked relatively easy. She glanced up at Ginny who was brimming with barely contained excitement. 

"Okay, okay, we can do it now," she said reluctantly.

"Yes!" Ginny clapped her hands gleefully. "Go shower, I'll go get some gloves so I can help."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone.
> 
> This is my first fic, I hope you enjoy it. A big thanks to my betas for proofreading it. The story is finished and more chapters will be posted weekly. Any comments/suggestions/critiques are welcome.
> 
> A note: Ravishment fantasies are very popular with women. It is not feminist to shame other women (or anyone) for enjoying them. Women have been shamed for their sexuality enough throughout history and I've deleted comments attempting to do so. If that type of erotica doesn't do it for you, you don't have to read it. It's as simple as that. The warning is in the tag. 
> 
> For everyone else: More action to come as the revenge plot unfolds! Don't turn that dial!


	2. Tuesday morning

The next morning, Hermione gave her appearance one last glance in the mirror. She felt different. Different wasn’t necessarily _bad_ , but it wasn’t necessarily good either. She had mixed feelings about her new hairstyle. On the one hand, she felt more exposed since her features were no longer overshadowed by an uncontrollable mess of curls.

On the other hand…

Tentatively, she ran her fingers through her hair. It was nice to be able to do so without them getting caught in a snag. Her hair was easily brushed. She experimentally put her hair in a messy bun, a ponytail and a braid, and easily undid each hairstyle with minimal effort and no pain. She decided that she liked it. Ginny had done her homework. The waves would take some getting used to, but she could certainly appreciate her hair not being a constant source of aggravation anymore.

Last night, after rinsing the potion out and drying her hair, happy with the lack of frizzy poof that drying spells normally resulted in, Ginny had dragged her down to the common room. To her embarrassment and Ginny’s delight, everyone complimented her. Even Ron had something nice to say, and he would usually be the one to let something insensitive come out of his mouth at a time like this. Maybe Lavender really was good for him.

"It's different, but it suits you."

Hermione jumped and whirled around to see Lavender appraising her hair critically. She hadn't realized that she wasn't the only one in the girls' bathroom.

“It’s much lower maintenance than what you had before. With some work, you could have shaped ringlet curls out of your hair to get it under control, but the waves will be easier to manage. It looks good.”

"Thanks," she said, as she studied Lavender warily. "You would be honest, wouldn't you? You wouldn't hold back if it really didn't look good." Hermione smiled, trying to joke and ease her guilt from the way she had been treating her this past year. "In fact, you might even _enjoy_ telling me so."

Lavender smiled in return. "Actually, I was trying to be nice, but I was also being honest. How did you manage it? I’ve never seen you put any effort into your hair."

Hermione explained Ginny’s birthday present and Lavender nodded in understanding. She wondered if Ginny had spoken to Lavender as well about them getting along. Things had been tense between the two of them for awhile now because of her past history with Ron. Hermione took the conversation as an olive branch and decided to extend one of her own.

"I'm heading down to breakfast now, want to come with me?"

"Sure, just hold on a minute." Lavender approached one of the mirrors above the sinks and began to primp her long, blond hair, muttering charms with practiced ease while her hair flattened, curled and poofed out at various places that her wand touched.

"It really is a talent, isn't it?" Hermione mused, thinking that there were more valuable talents than hairstyling. But she told Ginny she'd make an effort. Hermione briefly wondered if their relationship would have been better if she would have asked Lavender to teach her to style her unruly curls.

She grinned at the praise. "Thanks." She applied some lip gloss and held the tube out to Hermione. "It'll make your lips seem fuller… sexier." She raised an eyebrow suggestively.

"Ha." Hermione laughed lightly and took the tube. "That's me. Sexy."

She imitated Lavender in applying the gloss and smacked her lips together. Lavender giggled and Hermione smiled at her.

_Gross._

The lip gloss was sticky and tasted like cherry. It was vile. She'd wipe it off when Lavender wasn't looking. For now, she kept the smile on her face, hoping to mask her distaste. She didn't want this newfound easing of hostilities between them to end. She promised Ginny, and she wanted to atone for being so unfair to Lavender.

"Shall we?" Hermione asked.

"We shall."

And so, the two girls headed down out of Gryffindor Tower to the Great Hall.

As they entered, Hermione could see Harry already sitting at their house table. He glanced up suspiciously at the two girls as they entered, wary of another tense meal together. However, as they seemed relatively at ease with each other, Harry relaxed. Hermione sat across from Harry and next to Lavender. Ginny bounced across the room, pecked Harry on the cheek, and sat next to him.

"Your hair looks a _maz_ ing Hermione," Ginny said with mock admiration in her voice. "Tell me, who suggested you make your hair wavy like that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You did."

"And how long did it take you to do your hair this morning?" She cocked her head, as if she truly didn't know the answer to her question, down to the last second.

Hermione blew out a breath of air. "No time at all,” she ground out. “I just brushed it."

"Fascinating." She turned to Harry. "Harry, don't you think that Hermione looks much better now that we can actually see her pretty face?" She turned back and smiled innocently at Hermione, batting her eyelashes and thoroughly enjoying herself.

"Uhh… yes?" Harry answered warily, not sure which answer would be least likely to backfire on him.

"Oh, quit your gloating, Ginny. You were right, I was wrong. Are you happy?"

"Quite!”

Lavender and Harry sniggered while Hermione grumbled, reaching for a piece of toast. Really, she didn't know why she hung out with this lot anymore. She buttered her toast as Ginny and Harry began to discuss the upcoming Quidditch match.

Surprisingly, Lavender looked as disinterested as Hermione was in the conversation. She didn’t realize that was something they had in common. She had assumed Lavender was just another Quidditch groupie, hanging on to Ron’s every word. Maybe she was just… a supportive girlfriend? Wouldn’t Hermione want a boyfriend to be supportive of her hobbies and activities even if he wasn’t interested?

She really did need to question her preconceived notions about Lavender. However, her recent revelation didn’t help to alleviate the silent awkwardness between them right now. Despite the commonality of being completely uninterested in Quidditch, they didn’t have much to say to each other. Suddenly, Lavender perked up and waved to Padma, who was approaching their table with Anthony Goldstein, the other Ravenclaw Prefect, and Blaise Zabini, the Head Boy. Both of them were happy for the chance to break the silence.

"Hi, Hermione, Lavender" Padma greeted them, giving Lavender a small wave and turned with purpose to Hermione. "We wanted to talk with you about the Ancient Runes project due next month."

"Yeah," Anthony said, "We're having trouble explaining why Gaussius interpreted the East Balkan scroll to mean that war would cleanse the mountain regions there."

Blaise continued, "If I didn't know better, I'd think that Gaussius was making a mistake. We're all stuck, Draco didn’t understand it either."

Hermione nodded excitedly. "I know what you mean. It's _Gaussius_!" She heard Harry mutter something that sounded suspiciously like "Nerds" to Ginny and Lavender followed by barely concealed sniggering. "It just doesn't make sense however you look at it. Maybe we could meet Friday afternoon, I've got a free period then and we could continue on until the evening."

"Sounds good." Anthony clapped her on the back, a little bit too hard, and she pitched forward slightly, jostling her plate of eggs. "See you in Arithmancy."

"Right," she waved as they walked back to their respective tables.

Hermione smiled to herself. She enjoyed the rare occasions that she collaborated with the students in the other houses on schoolwork.

"Good morning, love." Ron took Lavender's hand as he sat down across from her. "You look beautiful today." 

“Thanks, Won-Won.”

Hermione didn’t roll her eyes. She _didn’t_. She was pretty sure at least. Well, maybe a little but it was most certainly not a full blown eye roll. Partial.

She looked up to see Ginny’s blue eyes crinkling in amusement at her.

Ron busied himself in collecting toast, a scone, jam, butter, eggs, sausage and kippers. Lavender eyed the growing pile on his plate with thinly veiled disgust. Hermione was also grossed out on occasion by the amount Ron was capable of eating. Something else she and Lavender had in common.

"So,” Lavender asked. “You three have Quidditch practice this afternoon?"

After shoveling some eggs in his mouth Ron suddenly coughed and squeaked out, "Yes!"

Harry quirked an eyebrow at him. "You alright there, mate?"

Ron swallowed his eggs and shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

"Just fine," he answered, regaining control over his voice. He gave a seductive glance at Lavender and Hermione noticed a blush slowly creeping up his neck.

"Are you sure?" Lavender asked him with innocent concern. "You look a bit peaky."

His ears turned bright red and his mouth opened slightly.

Hermione tried to ignore the exchange. She had seen Lavender's leg extended under the table and could guess what she was doing. Lavender wasn't exactly being subtle next to her.

She finished her toast while listening to Harry and Ginny talk about Quidditch, pointedly not looking at Ron and Lavender although she could hear his suppressed gasps and her giggles. She reached for the saltshaker in front of Ron to sprinkle on her omelet. The house-elves never used enough salt. Not that they could be blamed for that, of course. They had so many people to please!

"You think you’ll be okay for practice?" Harry asked Ron as he turned back to his food. After chewing and studying Ron's reddened complexion a bit, he added, "You don’t look well. Don't get sick, we need you for the game this weekend. Hey, Hermione, pass the salt, will you?"

Hermione handed the shaker to Harry but nothing came out when he sprinkled it on his eggs.

"Blimey, Hermione, you’re like a cow at a salt-lick. How much did you use?" He looked around. "Is there another shaker on the table?

Hermione munched on her eggs and furrowed her brows. "That's odd, there was plenty when I used it."

Harry spotted one. " _Accio_ saltshaker."

Another saltshaker came whizzing down the table, knocking over Hermione's orange juice, and he caught it.

"Aak! Harry!" with reflexes honed in battle, she quickly siphoned all the spilled juice away with her wand before it dribbled onto her clothes. He smiled sheepishly at her. “Sorry.” She glared at him.

Ginny reached across Harry to put her hand on Ron's forehead. "You _are_ a little hot."

Ron gasped and looked at Lavender, his face flaming, her face full of innocent concern. "I'm okay," he rasped to Ginny. “Really!”

Ginny wasn’t convinced. “You don’t sound it.”

The five talked about their classes and the impending double Potions class they had with the Slytherins during fifth and sixth period. Two days in a row. Ginny taunted Harry and Ron as she knew how they suffered under Snape. Ron continued to look more and more uncomfortable as he shifted and slouched in his seat, giving out grunts in reply and vague monosyllabic answers. Hermione tried to keep her eyes on her food. Lavender smiled sweetly at Ron, appearing completely oblivious to the effect her foot was having on him.

Feeling irritated at being forced to study what was left of her omelet and trying to look anywhere but Ron, whose sexual agitation was starting to make her uncomfortable, if not a bit sexually frustrated herself, Hermione's eyes floated over the various house tables and landed on the other side of the room. There, she saw the blond head of Draco Malfoy. He was leaning back against the wall by the Slytherin table as if he owned the place.

Pansy Parkinson leaned into him with a simpering smile. His arms were crossed and his tie was loosened. She could see him conversing with a few older Slytherins sitting near him down at the table. Unlacing his arms, he pushed himself off the wall and sat down where the other eighth years parted for him. Although he and his family had been Death Eaters, they had managed to turn sides right before the end of the war last summer, working with the Order to find and destroy the last of the Horcruxes and to bring Voldemort down. Somehow, they had come out of the whole mess on top, like the last war.

Hermione shook her head, thinking about how Lucius Malfoy had tried to kill them at the Department of Mysteries two years ago. If someone asked her, the Malfoys were given more credit than what was due, but no one asked her. She could understand Narcissa and Draco being forgiven for their roles in the war due to the abject terror they had lived with the past two years. And Draco was still a minor then, threatened with his family’s lives. But it’s not as if they were spies throughout the war like Snape. They didn’t deserve to go back to their lives as if nothing had happened and Lucius certainly deserved to go back into Azkaban instead of pulling strings at the Ministry like he used to do.

 _Those Malfoys were nothing if not cunning, manipulative sons of…_ she thought as she studied Malfoy a bit more.... _and very attractive._

She furrowed her brows. Gone was the gaunt and haunted look from two years ago when he was assigned to kill Dumbledore. Living without fear, life returning to normalcy and getting involved in Quidditch again had brought him a lean, muscular physique. His chin length hair looked soft as he carelessly ran a hand through it. His face was contoured and masculine. She wondered what his skin felt like. Whether it would be cool to the touch, or warm.

Hermione lost track of how long she had been staring at him when she suddenly realized that he was staring right back at her. A nervous tightening slowly spread in her stomach as his grey eyes pierced hers. She had never really looked at Malfoy for an extended period of time - not if she could help it, and certainly not directly into his eyes like this. They usually ignored each other. He saved his barbs and snide remarks for Harry or Ron, they seemed to enjoy baiting each other. She tended to stay out of their pissing contests and was pleasantly surprised to see that she was left alone in return.

But this? This was strange and new and intimate. His grey eyes promised something sensual and dirty and she wanted it. She wanted _him_.

She felt hot and her cheeks flushed involuntarily, but she couldn't look away. The tightness in her stomach spread lower and she rubbed her legs together to relieve the building tension. Her sexual frustration increased as she heard Ron's occasional grunts to Harry's comments and his sighs in the background, causing her to imagine Malfoy making those noises.

The longer she looked into Malfoy's eyes, the more she felt she was treading into unknown territory. She felt increasingly warm and nervous and… was she getting wet? His grey eyes bored into hers and she felt herself breathing heavily, as images flashed of him moaning and sighing in pleasure. She imagined his eyes locking onto hers, forbidding her from looking away, as he slowly entered her from above. Her mouth went dry and her lips parted.

Oh. Her knickers were most definitely wet. She wanted to feel his body. She wanted him on top of her and to stare at her like he was doing right now. She wanted him inside her. She wanted him inside her _now_.

Malfoy slowly rested his arms on the table, and leaned forward. "Mudblood," he mouthed, and sneered, breaking the spell.

Faking nonchalance, she rolled her eyes, flicked her hair and turned away as if nothing had happened. She was a little surprised, he hadn’t used that term for a couple years and had given no indication that he held onto previous prejudices. She was just another classmate as far as he was concerned. But she couldn't get rid of the desire within her. It was so sudden .

"Don't you think, Hermione? Hermione, are you listening?" Harry asked, pulling her away from her thoughts.

"Pardon? I'm sorry, Harry. I got distracted."

"Don't you think that Ron should see Madam Pomfrey?" He turned back to Ron. "Just have her check you out quick. I don't want you missing practice and definitely not the game."

"Aaahhh, sure. Sure, Harry. I'll go."

"I'll take you down," Lavender offered Ron with a sensual smile.

 _I'm sure you will,_ Hermione thought to herself.

She sneaked a peek at Malfoy's lean, muscular frame as he rose to leave. Letting out a long breath, she watched him stretch his limbs as he donned his robes and straightened his tie before heading off to class.

When did he become so desirable?

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione passed through History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures in a daze and was quite disturbed to find that she couldn't stop thinking about Malfoy or his grey eyes. Even less welcome were the images that kept playing through her mind of him sweaty, naked, and pressed against her body. She didn't understand what was wrong her. Sure, Malfoy was attractive, she could admit to that. Lots of blokes were attractive. So were Bill and Charlie Weasley, so was Dean Thomas, and she did fantasize about them every so often. But she didn't find herself obsessively thinking about them all the time. Not so intensely. Not so suddenly.

She never even obsessed over Ron like this when she had once hoped that the two of them might become an item instead of an awkward source of comfort during a war they were uncertain about winning. And she genuinely loved Ron. Malfoy, she couldn't stand. With irritation, she noticed that her notebook was full of incoherent phrases. She couldn't concentrate on her classes, and found that the tightness within her would not go away. If anything, it seemed to be getting worse and her fantasies more frequent.

Hermione walked back inside the castle from Care of Magical Creatures, lagging behind Harry, Ron and Lavender. Her next class was Arithmancy, which she had with Malfoy. She was so nervous about seeing him again she felt she might vomit. She wished she didn't have any classes with him. But still, she couldn't wait to see him and get closer to him.

This was so pathetic.

As she approached the classroom, she peeked inside to see if he arrived. Not yet, she exhaled in anticipation, wondering what to do next. She walked to the other side of the corridor pretending to organize her things as Malfoy sauntered around the corner with Blaise Zabini and entered the classroom.

Only seven students dared to take the NEWT level Arithmancy class, so most of the chairs were usually unoccupied. They were the same seven students that took NEWT level Ancient Runes. Three Ravenclaws, two Slytherins, one Hufflepuff, and one Gryffindor. Hermione waited until Malfoy sat down. Hoping to watch him without calling attention to her actions, she took a seat one row behind him and two chairs to his right. He took his quill, ink and parchment out of his satchel in preparation for class and didn’t notice her.

_Good._

…and bad.

She wanted him to notice her. She wanted him to look at her like he did in the Great Hall.

She sighed, disappointed in her ridiculous behavior. She thought herself above the frivolities of brainless teenagers. But these were just normal hormone driven thoughts. She still _was_ a teenager, after all. Maybe she needed a good snog; it had been a while since she had done anything remotely sexual. Or maybe she was just more turned on by Ron getting off by Lavender’s ministrations than she cared to admit?

Did that make her a voyeur? But then, why the sudden attraction to Malfoy? What did he have to do with any of it?

Professor Vector came in and with a quick greeting to her students and continued to describe the quantification of magic intensity from where she had left off in the previous lecture. The furious scratching of quills across parchments sounded in the classroom, punctuated by the occasional tap from removing extra ink from the quill point on the inkwell. Hermione intended on taking notes, she really did. But Malfoy had pushed up the sleeves of his robes, baring his forearms. She could see his muscles flexing and tendons moving under his pale skin. The movement made his faded Dark Mark ripple as he wrote. His long fingers gently held his quill as he gracefully filled line after line of parchment with notes and diagrams, periodically looking up at Professor Vector, and down again to his notes.

She began to imagine his fingers on her body and her temperature increased. Where there was tightness, there was now heat. She squirmed in her seat and pulled her eyes to the front of the room and to the diagrams, which were magically suspended in mid-air.

_Merlin! She hadn't written down a thing!_

Professor Vector never checked to see if her students were paying attention, she knew they were all highly motivated and at the top of their year - there was no need. How embarrassing would it be if Hermione was caught daydreaming!

She furiously copied the diagrams before Professor Vector could take them down to make room for more, although she knew that her notes wouldn't be adequate enough to describe them. She would have to get today's notes from one of the Ravenclaws. That shouldn't be a problem. She lent out her notes to them whenever needed. And she could always catch up on today's lecture by reading over the chapter; it would just be a bit more difficult without the benefit of Vector's explanations.

Feeling a bit more relaxed in her ability to get caught up, she turned back to studying Malfoy. His frame was slightly hunched forward as he copied down his notes, and she studied the different angles of his body. He shifted his posture occasionally, which allowed her to see the changing contours of his limbs through his robes. He ran a hand through his chin length hair.

Oh, did she ever want to do that.

She would run her hands through his hair and grip the base of his neck. She imagined sliding her hands underneath his robes and feeling his chest. The warmth in her lower body intensified and she found herself heating up and becoming even more aroused.

She closed her eyes and licked her lips. It was awful and at the same time, it was wonderful. She had never felt an attraction this intense before. All the same, she couldn't continue like this. She had to get out of here. Certainly, something unusual had happened to her; this wasn't normal behavior, even for sex-obsessed teenagers.

Her head snapped up. That was it! She must have been cursed! Why else would she suddenly be so taken with Malfoy that she couldn't concentrate on anything else?

She stared and contemplated him. Did he do it? He certainly wasn't acting any different than usual. If he had cursed her, wouldn't he be taunting her by now? No, it wasn't him.

Of course, turning back to look at him was a mistake. Her eyes were drawn to the side of his head and at his brow furrowed in concentration. She lowered her gaze to his defined jaw, which clenched and unclenched with the rhythm of his writing, and then to his plump lips.

She could kiss those lips. She really, truly, _deeply_ wanted to kiss those lips. She bit her own at the thought, closed her eyes and let out a small groan. The room went silent and everyone turned around.

_Bollocks!_

Wide eyed, she looked up at Professor Vector, purposefully avoiding Malfoy's gaze, staring at her with curiosity. She could actually _feel_ his eyes on her and she clenched her thighs knowing she was the object of his piercing grey eyes.

She was cursed. No doubt about it. There was nothing natural about any of this.

"Are you alright, Miss Granger?" Professor Vector asked.

Not wanting to pass up such a perfect opportunity, she lied. "Actually no, my stomach has been bothering me all morning. Could I go see Madam Pomfrey?"

"Of course, and will someone please give Miss Granger their notes for this class afterwards?" The professor was already turning back to the blackboard to continue the lesson. "Feel better," she called over her shoulder.

Hermione quickly gathered her things and rushed out of the classroom without meeting anybody's eyes.

_Thank Merlin!_

She couldn't stand being that close to him another minute! No matter, she thought as she walked down to the hospital wing. She'd get the antidote to whatever it was that she had been cursed with from Madam Pomfrey and everything would go back to normal. Then she would find out who did it, and hex the ever living shit out of them!

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione entered Madam Pomfrey's office in a rush. The much older witch looked up from her paperwork and suddenly, she felt tongue-tied, and ashamed.

"Yes, dear?"

"Madam Pomfrey, I.. uh…"

She stopped and looked shyly at the older medi-witch. How was she going to explain this? Madam Pomfrey was the only staff member as old as Dumbledore had been, possibly older. She must have lived during the Victorian era. How would she explain this to someone who grew up in a time when table legs were supposed to be covered to prevent men from having carnal thoughts of women's legs?

Madam Pomfrey gazed back patiently at her.

Hermione took a steadying breath. She could do this. She had faced Death Eaters and pieces of Voldemort's soul. What was a conversation about sex with the school nurse in comparison? "Madam Pomfrey, I think I've been cursed."

Her eyebrows rose as she looked Hermione up and down. "Oh?"

"Just this morning, I found that I was having very… um… indecent thoughts about someone." She blushed, but hurriedly continued before she lost her nerve. "Someone that I don't like at all, really. And I can't concentrate on my work, I can't concentrate in class, I can't concentrate on anything. All I do is stare at this person when he's around and think about…." She stared at her feet. She had to keep talking. "Those things… with him… and when he's not around, it's the same. And I get very hot and flushed because all I can think about is…" She blushed again, hoping that Madam Pomfrey would understand and not judge her too harshly. “….is that. With him.”

Madam Pomfrey nodded sagely, an understanding smile quirking on her lips. "Well, Miss Granger, I don't think that you are cursed. You're a young woman, and while I do encourage abstinence, I'm not so naïve as to be oblivious to what hormone driven teenagers do at Hogwarts."

"But you don't understand! It's getting in the way of my ability to study." Her eyes widened. "That's it! Someone cursed me to sabotage my place at the top of the class!"

Madam Pomfrey chuckled at her. "Miss Granger, this is all perfectly normal. Why do you think we have dress codes here? How easy would it be for students to concentrate in class if everyone attended dressed in inappropriate attire?"

"But he's dressed appropriately!" she argued, although she absolutely wished that he _weren't_. "And you don't understand - he's… he's a complete and utter prat. I don't like him! I don’t _want_ to be attracted to him or think about him in this way. And it just happened so…so... suddenly! Nothing happens that fast! It has to be a curse."

Madam Pomfrey gave her a knowing smile and Hermione's blood boiled. She didn't believe her!

"Of _course,_ Miss Granger. And yet you _are_ attracted to him. It seems you have a very active imagination; a quality that's helped you excel in your studies and find the Horcruxes, I'm sure. But now, your imagination is hindering your studies rather than helping them. If I might suggest to you something that is more common with boys to get them through the day? Some… relief?"

"Relief? What do you -oh!" Her face blanched as her anger quickly diffused into embarrassment. She stared at her feet. Was she really having this conversation with Madam Pomfrey of all people? She'd prefer facing Death Eaters again.

Madam Pomfrey continued. "Now, don't be embarrassed, dear. It's perfectly natural. In fact, if you know how to relieve yourself, you'll be better equipped to tell a future partner how to give you that same relief."

This was humiliating. She had to get out of here. She'd much prefer to have this conversation with her mum, or Ginny, if she was going to have it at all. But it did make sense, maybe she just needed to masturbate and relieve her tension. She'd never tried it before, but the idea was becoming more and more appealing.

"If you are unsure as to how to go about relieving yourself, I have these explanatory diagrams –"

"No, no! Please! That won't be necessary!" She would rather sing opera in front of the entirety of Hogwarts than be told how to masturbate by Madam Pomfrey. Ron had essentially done it for her in the past, she didn’t need to be told _how._

"Yes, well, I know the subject can be embarrassing, but I ensure you it's completely healthy and will only enhance your future relationships. Some people enjoy watching their partners –"

" _Thank_ you, Madam Pomfrey," Hermione interrupted. This conversation had to end _now_. "You really have given me good advice, it's just a bit more that I wanted to hear, no offense."

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "None taken."

As Hermione turned to rush out of the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey called after her. "Oh, Miss Granger, one more thing." Madam Pomfrey whisked her wand and a series of pamphlets sailed through the air and landed into Hermione's hands.

Hermione skimmed over the titles: _Abstinence: is it the right choice for you?, Safe sex: A guide to contraceptive spells and potions, Masturbation: a guide for witches._ All of the pamphlets were complete with explicit, moving, and extremely detailed diagrams.

Mouth agape, she looked up at Madam Pomfrey, her blush back in full force, and ran out of the infirmary.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head and tsked. "Teenagers these days are such prudes."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione ran to her dorm room.

Relief! Masturbation! Of course!

That's what she would have to do. She wished that she would have thought of it herself without having to go through that embarrassing conversation with Madam Pomfrey. The memory alone made her shudder.

Well really, it was her fault for not considering the obvious. Being involved with Harry and Ron on all of their adventures made her extra paranoid. A curse! How silly! She raced up the stairs to the girls' dormitories of Gryffindor Tower, pushed open the door to the eighth years' bedroom, threw her bag and books to the side of her bed, collapsed on the mattress and drew the curtains around her.

Everyone would be at lunch now, but it was always best to take precautions. She cast a Silencing Charm around her bed and took off her robes. Glancing at the hand-outs, she decided she wouldn't be caught dead with Madam Pomfrey's informational pamphlets. She incinerated the one on abstinence (it's not like she was going to have sex with Malfoy anyway) and did the same with the pamphlet on masturbation. She was hot, wet, and pulsing down there. She'd have no problem finding the right spot. Ron had certainly found it and it was _her_ body. The last one regarding contraceptive spells and potions, she placed in her drawer underneath a collection of various items so that it wouldn't be seen. They would come in handy one day, maybe just not during her time at Hogwarts. She couldn't imagine doing it with anyone except Malfoy right now and _that_ wasn't going to happen for obvious reasons.

Impatient to feel normal once again, Hermione laid back on her pillow, hitched up her skirt, shoved her hand down her knickers and closed her eyes, thinking of Malfoy's piercing greys.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Blaise leaned over to speak to Draco at lunch. "Did you see Granger checking you out in Arithmancy today?"

Draco choked on his chicken. Blaise slapped him on his back several times. After regaining the ability to breathe, he turned to Blaise and cracked a smile. "You had me there."

"I'm not kidding. She was so busy staring at you that she didn't realize I'd noticed. From the look of her, it wasn't magical quantification she was thinking about. She wasn't taking notes either."

"Can we not talk about this? I'd like to finish eating. Prissy swots aren’t my thing."

“Why not?” Blaise gave him a lecherous look. "She's not ugly. I wouldn't kick her out of my bed."

Draco rounded on his friend and lowered his voice. "Blaise, I said shut it."

"Okay, okay." He raised his hands and backed off.

Draco turned back to his meal and stabbed his chicken. When Blaise was otherwise engaged, he chanced a quick glance at the Gryffindor table. Granger wasn't there. He returned his gaze back down to his food before Blaise could see him looking.

She had been staring at him this morning. He was surprised at how clearly he could see her facial features with her hair out of the way. Locking eyes with her earlier had made him feel uncomfortable, and he had ended it the best way he knew how.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione saw the tall forms of Ron, Lavender, and Harry heading down to the dungeons and she ran to catch up with them. She poked Harry in the side, causing him to yelp and whirl around.

"What happened to constant vigilance?" she teased.

"Hey, we saved you a sandwich and some crisps.” Harry passed her a bagged lunch and she took it. “Were you at the library again?"

“Thanks, Harry.” Relieved for yet another easy excuse presented to her, she nodded. "You know, NEWTs and Head Girl duties have me working overtime."

There was no way she'd tell them what she had been doing during lunch period. During _all_ of lunch period. She had orgasmed five times to images of a naked Draco Malfoy playing through her head. He took her on top, from behind, from the side, and lastly, she rode him until they both were screaming. She was a sweaty mess before she rushed to take a quick shower and dry her hair.

She was so relieved that she had gotten rid of that sexual tension and felt she would be fully able to concentrate in class now. Even with the double Potions with the Slytherins. And she'd definitely need to be concentrating in Potions. She'd just have to avoid looking at him.

"It's the least we can do with all the help you give us with homework. We need to keep our source of brainpower fed." Harry put a strong arm around her tiny frame, squeezed her towards him and tussled her hair.

"Quit it!" She smiled up at him. "You two are both bright, you just don't apply yourselves, and have trouble paying attention in class."

"Do we ever," answered Ron. "I drooled over all my notes in History of Magic this morning. Which reminds me - I'm going to need yours, Hermione."

"Oh," she said, embarrassed. "My notes aren't so good today, otherwise I would give them to you. I wasn't paying attention myself actually. Fine time to give you two a lecture, huh."

"You can take my notes," Lavender offered. "They're well organized."

"Thanks, love." Ron nuzzled her ear.

Hermione held back a snort, not wanting to insult her. She would _not_ be getting her notes from Lavender—that was for sure. She could be nice and accepting but she had _standards_. They approached the door to the Potions classroom and she stopped, closed her eyes and counted to ten. She just had to avoid looking at him.

They went to their usual tables, Harry and Ron together, Lavender and Parvati, Hermione and Neville. She kept her eyes focused downward, forcefully avoiding Malfoy's direction where he was paired with Crabbe. She'd look at her table all class.

My, there were a lot of ridges and scratches in the wood. Maybe she could count them. One, two, three…

Snape entered with a flourish of his robes and began describing the potion that they would be making. "The instructions are on page 158 of your textbooks. Failure to produce satisfactory results will result in a three foot essay on the effects of poorly made Mandrake draughts."

When no one made a move, he added in a voice filled with irritation, "If you want to finish on time I suggest you start _today_. I have some papers to go over and do not wish to be disturbed. Seventh years at Hogwarts should have enough self-reliance to make a decent draught. _By. Themselves._ "

He entered his office and shut the door. He must have been angry about the lack of success yesterday.

Chairs squeaked and papers rustled as the room became a flurry of activity.

Hermione handed Neville the list that she had prepared last night. "I'll get the dry ingredients, Neville, you get the wet."

"Sure thing." And they both headed off to collect their respective ingredients.

Hermione headed over to the supplies closet with her tray to collect the items that she needed. Looking briefly at her list, she began to fill the various bowls. She was almost done when she felt a warm body close to her backside. A musky, male scent filled her nostrils as she inhaled, and she shivered. Hermione didn't even have to turn around; she knew it was him.

She closed her eyes and counted to three.

 _Just get your things and get out of here, don't look at him,_ she told herself.

She hurriedly scanned the shelves for Rockwurst root, conscious of the now familiar tightening in her lower belly and put a large piece into a glass receptacle. She could see his arms reaching out to grab ingredients from the corner of her eye and willed herself to look away, turn around, and make it back to her seat. But the damage was done. It was as if she hadn't masturbated at all and she was right back to the state she was in during Arithmancy.

She placed her tray on the table next to Neville's and they began to prepare the first ingredients. She looked over ( _Stop looking!_ ) and saw Malfoy's arms with his sleeves rolled up, muscles flexing, chopping the root with Crabbe. He had such sexy hands and forearms. She thought of how they could stroke her, grope her, pinch her… spank her.

_Where did that come from?_

She had to concentrate. They had a potion to make. Neville was relying on her.

"Okay, Neville, first we have to –" Merlin, she felt hot. She rubbed her forehead. She was sweating! "– uh, dice the Rockwurst root. Here, I've got the knife. You get the rose water boiling."

She tried chopping but kept looking across the room at Malfoy, and ended up cutting her middle finger. "Ouch!" She put her finger in her mouth and sucked on it.

"Oh, be careful, Hermione, I'll do it." Neville took the knife from her and continued chopping the root. "Um, maybe you can adjust the temperature of the cauldron."

But Hermione wasn't listening. Her eyes were back on Malfoy.

He glanced up at her and she stared into his grey eyes, sucking the blood off of her finger. Her lower belly constricted and she felt her knickers get wet again. She couldn't help it. She loved his eyes, and they dropped to her mouth. As her tongue moved over her finger distractedly she imagined licking him. Licking _all_ of him. She could see his eyes darken with heat as he watched the movements of her tongue. Or was she just imagining it? What would he taste like? Malfoy stared at Hermione while her tongue moved up the sides of her finger.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco's lips parted and he felt his cock twitch.

_No. Fucking. Way._

Girls flirted with him all the time. His reputation as a reformed Death Eater had its perks. And while the flirtations were strangely exciting coming from Hermione, they couldn't be real. The way she was licking her finger with that sultry gaze of hers was too much. She was playing with him, and that came as a surprise since they had pretty much ignored each other in an unspoken truce. The Golden Trio must be bored now that Voldemort was dead, and were looking to get their kicks by messing with his head. Well, he wasn't falling for this shit.

Longbottom jostled her and she looked back, embarrassed, as if she didn't realize what she was doing. Draco continued to add ingredients as Crabbe stirred, but kept an eye on her.

"Did you see that?" Blaise asked him.

"See what?" answered Draco, although he knew exactly what Blaise was referring to.

"Granger. Sucking on her finger like she'd like nothing better than to have her mouth around your cock."

Draco ground his teeth, trying to will his erection away. "Yes, I did."

"And?"

"And what?” Draco gave Blaise an exasperated glare. “She's too obvious. It's a prank."

Blaise looked put out. "Yeah, you're probably right. But she's making me hard and I'm not even the one she's looking at."

"So if you want her so badly why don't you do something about it," Draco asked, irritated. “As Head Boy, you share a common room with her, you certainly have the opportunity.” There was a long pause as they both studied Granger. She looked up at Draco again and flushed perceptibly.

"I think I will," Blaise countered. "But it looks like it's you she's all hot and bothered over."

"If you want to be ordered around in bed by some swotty bitch then go right ahead," Draco said, trying not to look at her.

Blaise gave him a smirk. “You make that sound like a bad thing.”

Draco glanced back at Hermione. It wasn’t a bad thing. It really wasn’t. The thought of Hermione Granger bossing him around while he serviced her sexually was damn arousing. But he was barely ready to admit that to himself, let alone to Blaise. What did she think she was doing? Sucking her finger like it was his cock and then blushing. Playing the seductress or the embarrassed virgin? Whatever game she was playing, she was surprisingly good at it. He adjusted his trousers to make room for his erection that wouldn't go away.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Neville looked down at her, worried. "Hermione, are you alright? You look like you have a fever and it's not like you to not pay attention to our potion."

She wiped her brow again. She was so hot! Her knickers were wet, her nipples were hard, she was horny as hell, and she felt _so_ frustrated. Would Snape excuse her so that she could go relieve herself in the bathroom? No, he wouldn't be as kind as Professor Vector.

"It is hot in here, isn't it? I'm sorry, Neville, I think I'm okay; I'm just not myself. How about we switch and you tell me what to do instead? I don't want to mess up our potion."

"I can try. But I don't think it will be as good."

"That's okay…" she groaned as she rubbed her thighs together.

Neville eyed her warily and then bent over the text and her notes, deep in thought.

She glanced at Malfoy again. Both he and Zabini were staring at her. Merlin, those eyes of his. All she could think about was him on top of her, thrusting into her, dominating her, taking her, _claiming_ her. She was hot and itchy everywhere. Her head was swimming. She had to take off her robe. Dress codes be damned, she would pass out if she didn't.

Hermione quickly unfastened the front and put her robe over the back of her chair. She ran her hands through her sleek, shiny hair, extremely happy that it was no longer a frizzy mess. It was a little damp from sweat. She pinched a bit of fabric from her blouse and pulled it in and out quickly, creating a small fan of air on her neck and face, and wiped her neck with her sleeve. The tension and heat between her thighs was unbearable. She squirmed, and unable to help herself, rubbed her legs together again.

This was humiliating. She knew that Zabini and Malfoy were discussing her antics. They kept whispering to each other and looking at her. She met Malfoy's eyes once more and ran her tongue over her lips. His mouth was closed tight as he watched her intently. He didn't break eye contact with her like he had done previously at the Great Hall. The heat was unbearable. She wanted him. She couldn’t help it, a small moan escaped.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

He did want her. Badly.

He could deny it until his face turned blue but Blaise was having none of it. Certainly his anatomy wasn’t currently aligning with the protestations of his brain. He knew what would happen, though. He'd attempt to follow up on her flirtations, and she'd leave him hanging so that her idiot friends could laugh at him. What else would explain her behavior? Surely she wasn't really this aroused in the middle of class. And by him of all people.

"Snape is going to give her shit as soon as he notices that her robe is off," Blaise commented. "If it's a joke on you, it's an awfully risky one. She's going to get in trouble as soon as he comes back."

Draco said nothing and continued to watch her. He tried to inconspicuously rub himself on the edge of the table to relieve some of the tension he was feeling.

"Look at her," Blaise pondered about Granger some more, and then he grinned maliciously. "There's no way you can fake that."

Draco’s eyes narrowed at Blaise. "What?"

"I don't think it's a joke. At least, not one from her. Someone must have spiked her pumpkin juice, or something. She wouldn't be pulling a joke in a classroom where she'd risk getting detention and house points docked. Especially with Snape."

"Hmm, that does make sense," Draco commented as he watched her squirm and wipe her throat and chest area. He wouldn't mind licking her there. "Actually, that makes a lot of sense…"

Draco smirked devilishly at her. This was going to be fun.

He didn't notice that Pansy was eyeing the interactions between the two of them, looking both shocked and hurt.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

He was smiling at her! She shut her eyes and gripped the edge of the table. Lowering herself into a crouching position, she tried to breathe slowly. She inhaled and exhaled. Slowly… deeply… _In and out, in and out_ , she thought to herself, but thoughts of Malfoy going in and out came to her… argh!

She was definitely cursed; this was _not_ due to teenage hormones.

Neville looked worriedly over the table and down at her. "Hermione, I think you should go see Madam Pomfrey. You really do look sick."

Harry overheard. "Hermione's sick?” He walked over to their bench. “Let me see you." His strong arms easily lifted up her petite frame and he felt her forehead. "You've definitely got a fever, you're all red and sweaty. You know what," he looked over to Ron, "You look like you have what Ron had this morning."

Ron's head whipped around as his eyes met Hermione's. His jaw dropped and she flushed even more.

"What?" Harry asked, not used to being out of the loop. Neville stared at them, not understanding either.

"Uh, I wasn't exactly sick this morning, Harry. Lavender was… um…"

"Don't describe it, Ronald, I saw Lavender's little footsie game." She glanced over at Malfoy again and saw that his mouth spread into a predatory grin. She gasped as another wave of arousal passed through her, and shut her eyes.

"So you're… not sick?" Harry asked, confused.

“No, Harry, I’m not.” She wished that was all it was. Harry's eyebrows went up as his figurative light bulb went on. He released her arms abruptly.

"You're…"

"I think someone's cursed me."

Ron looked at her with wide eyes and said a bit too loudly for discretion. "You think someone's cursed you so you'd be… randy?" A few heads snapped up, curious.

Harry and Ron turned to each other at once and started to laugh in loud guffaws.

Hermione picked up her Potions book and smacked the backs of her two friends as they doubled over, clutching their stomachs.

"It's… not… funny!" she breathlessly exclaimed between smacks of her textbook. This only made them laugh harder. Everyone was sniggering.

Snape overheard the commotion and came back from his office. He stared at the three icily. "Fifty points from Gryffindor for disrupting the class and disrupting _me_. Miss Granger, don your robes, this is a _classroom_. Ten more points for not adhering to school dress codes. If I have to come out of my office because of you three again, I'm taking another fifty and you'll all land in detention."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione, for their part, looked a great deal ashamed and went back to work immediately. Snape returned to his office, but the rest of the class was full of hushed whispers and suppressed laughs.

"I'm sorry, Neville. It just started this morning. I really am cursed, I just don't know what it is, or who did it. But that's why I can't concentrate," she pleaded.

Neville looked uncomfortable and put a bit more space in between them. "Uh, sure, Hermione." Neville started to say something, paused, shifted his feet, and spoke. "Is it a general…" He chose Ron's word, "randiness? Or, uh, is it directed towards one person?"

"It's just one person," Hermione said, as Neville froze like a deer in headlights. "Don't worry, Neville, it's not you."

He let out a slow breath and looked much more relaxed. "So who...?" he began, and then thought better of it. "Never mind, I'd rather not know."

"I'll have to go to the library to figure out what it is." Hmm, she struggled to think about something besides Malfoy. A potion? Charm? Something more complex?

"You just sit and try to relax," Neville assured her. "I'll finish the potion, okay? You always help me when I need it." He conjured a cup. " _Aguamenti._ " The cup filled with water and he handed it to her.

Hermione smiled at him. "Thanks, Neville." She gulped the water, set the cup down on the table, and filled it again.

She looked back at Malfoy and was shocked to see that he had been watching her the whole time. He gave her that seductive half smirk of his, full of naughty promise. She began to pant and felt her chest heave.

His eyes pointedly moved southward to her breasts moving up and down, and she looked. Not wearing her robes anymore, her damp blouse was sticking to her body and mildly translucent. Her nipples were hardened under his scrutiny, and her breasts just ached to be touched. She rubbed her forearms over her nipples in order to ease their sensitivity, and tried to disguise the motion to that of rubbing her neck.

She looked back up at Malfoy. He grinned wickedly and leered at her damp chest again. Her lips parted and she tried to hold in a moan that threatened to escape. He knew exactly what she was doing but it didn’t matter. Her arousal intensified. Was he just playing with her? Maybe he _would_ have sex with her? Would he touch her at least? At this point, she was so desperate she knew she was willing to have sex with him. She rubbed her legs together at that thought. God! Her core was throbbing. Her body was tingling. She was hot and she needed him. She pressed her hands between her thighs; she couldn't take it anymore.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

_Fucking. Hell._

Draco stared at Granger unbelievingly. 

Someone had definitely messed with her libido. Whoever it was, he owed them big. Watching the petite Gryffindor getting hot and bothered gave him a feeling of power over her, which only added to his arousal. He'd have to corner her later before the effects of whatever had happened to her wore off. There was no way he was passing this opportunity up. He watched her press her hands to her nether region. She looked up at him again, gasping. He stared into her eyes and slowly ran his tongue over his teeth with a smile.

Immediately, her demeanor changed and she eyed him like a predator would her prey. With a growl, she lithely jumped over her table scattering a few ingredients on the floor, stalked over to his bench, muscled a gawking Crabbe out of the way with surprising strength, and pushed him down into his chair as she stared at him. The entire class stopped what they were doing for the second time that day. Jaws dropped.

Wasting no time, she straddled him and his eyes widened. He was surprised that this was happening now, but she was not unwelcome. How strong was this hex or potion she had been given? What was she going to do next? He let out a barely stifled groan as he felt the hot wetness between her legs rub over his erection, and she moaned loudly as she began to grind herself on him.

He looked at her lust filled hazel eyes. Was she really going to do this here? “Go ahead, Granger. I’m all yours.” He put his hands behind his head and leaned back smugly, looking completely in control.

Hermione's eyes flashed in anger. She would have none of that; she needed him to touch her… NOW. She grabbed his tie and yanked his head forward. His eyes widened in shock.

"Touch me!" she commanded.

Everyone in the classroom was still too stunned to react, including Draco. Numbly, he placed his hands on her waist. She smacked him hard. His head fell to the side. Slowly, he turned back and stared up at her open mouthed, taken aback, and completely aroused.

"Not there, you little shit! Here!"

She placed his hands on her breasts and started rocking herself back and forth on his erection. He stared in wonder as he massaged her small breasts over her damp blouse. She sighed and moaned. He still couldn't believe this was happening.

She pulled him up by his tie and invaded his mouth with her tongue. Desire and warmth flooded through Draco. The classroom melted away and he reveled in the feel of Hermione Granger in his mouth, pressed against him, kissing him and writhing on him. She was fantastic.

He tried to regain control but she wouldn't let him. Her legs pinned him down as she wrapped her feet around his shins and to the chair. She continued to grind her core onto his erection, and he moaned. One hand of hers still held him by his tie, the other fisted his hair and roughly massaged his scalp. She had an iron grip on him with her legs, and he couldn't move from his seat. Warmth pulsed through him, as his tongue met hers and his head clouded with sensation.

She broke off the kiss, and they both gasped for breath and opened their eyes. Was this really happening? He was still in shock from having an extremely horny Hermione Granger getting herself off. On him. In the middle of Potions. He caught Potter's eye, who was just as much in shock as he was, and felt a surge of adrenaline. How much could he get away with before Snape came back in? He smiled darkly at Potter and massaged her breasts.

Hermione moaned and continued to rub herself on him. Oh, did that friction feel good. He grunted and tried to pull his head back, but her grip on his tie and hair was too tight. Her legs were wrapped around his and he couldn't really move from his chair. Damn, but she was strong! How did someone so small have him pinned?

Ron finally suddenly came to his senses. "Hermione, get off him! You don't know what you're doing!" he yelled, jolting Harry out of his shock.

They rushed over to Malfoy's table, shouting at her when she suddenly summoned Crabbe's wand and snarled.

" _Incarcerous!_ " Ropes came out to bind the two of them together in the middle of the room. They struggled and fell to the ground, but couldn't get free.

"Neville!" Harry shouted, "Help her! She doesn't know what she's doing!"

All the yelling had brought a livid Snape out of his office. But Hermione was prepared.

" _Stupefy!_ "

Snape fell to the ground just as he appeared in the doorway and the class gasped. Neville didn't move, and neither did anyone else. Draco looked at Hermione in fear. What had been done to her? She was clearly not in her right mind, and he felt the beginnings of terror as she looked down at him with lust-filled eyes. What the hell was she going to do to him?

"Keep touching me!" she growled at him.

He obeyed.

She cast a Shield Charm around them, which prevented anyone from getting close. Not that anyone had tried after watching her attack Harry, Ron, and Snape.

" _Accio_ wands!" Everyone's wands came flying to her hands and she hurled them to the ceiling, where they remained stuck.

"Somebody, go get help!" Harry yelled.

Hermione's eyes flashed. The door slammed shut and locked and gags appeared around Harry and Ron's mouths. They gave muffled shouts.

She turned around to see Malfoy's surprise at her display of power; she gave him a wicked smile, leaning down to lick around his earlobe and down his neck. He shuddered at the contact, and felt a pulse from the trail of her tongue down to where she was rubbing herself on his groin. He gasped.

"You just worry about pleasing me," she whispered hotly into his ear. She was absolutely terrifying, but pleasing her was something he could do. _Merlin_ , he wanted her.

Scary as it was, the absurdity of the situation was turning Draco on immensely. It was a fantasy come to life - he didn't actually expect to be fucking, or in this case, getting off against some girl in front of a full classroom of onlookers. Or to be doing it with Granger while _Potty_ and _the Weasel_ watched. They were lying on the ground, unsuccessfully trying to break their bonds and shout some sense into her through the gags. All the while giving Draco murderous glares.

He smirked at them, then slowly unbuttoned her blouse while they watched, pulled down the cup of her bra, and inserted her hardened nipple into his mouth. His eyes were on Potter and Weasley the whole time.

The whole class was watching. It was like a train wreck. They couldn't look away, and they were too scared to do anything. Unable to deny the nature of the situation, many of the students themselves started to become aroused. Some tried to avert their eyes unsuccessfully, some didn't even try to hide the fact that they wanted to watch.

Blaise unabashedly stuck his hand down his pants to stroke himself. Nobody would notice with this show going on.

Pansy watched the scene, furious.

Draco sucked on Granger's nipple, his tongue swirling around it.

"Yessss," she hissed as she arched her back into him. "More! Unnngh!" She rubbed back and forth, and they both moaned with each motion. He started tweaking her left nipple while his mouth continued to tease her right one. She sighed, "More, give me more!"

She removed her hand from his hair and inserted it into the opening of his robes, and then his shirt, trying to feel the muscles of his chest. Moving downward, his left hand cupped her arse, groping, prodding and pinching, with his eyes on Potter and Weasely. She yelped with each pinch.

"More!" she commanded him.

He smiled at them again. They'd come after him later for this, so he'd better make the most of it. In any case, he didn't care. No amount of them kicking his arse would strike this from their memories, or _his._

She slapped his cheek again, and her nipple popped out of his mouth as his face whipped to the side. _Sweet Merlin!_ If that didn't turn him on.

Her eyes flashed at him. "Look at me, dammit! You do a lousy job when you don't pay attention!"

Angry at the jab at his skills, he smacked her arse and bit her breast lightly.

"Aaah!" she gasped. "Again!"

He sucked, licked, bit, pinched, groped, and spanked everywhere he could. She kept on moaning, crying out with each smack and pinch, continuously rubbing against him. He panted from the heat and friction.

He repeatedly tried to move his hips but she wouldn't let him. Her moans got louder and her breathing quicker. She leaned down to kiss him again and he groaned as her tongue slithered against his. Her mouth was heaven and almost made him forget how terrifying the situation was. He could feel that he was close to coming himself as his breath hitched.

She smacked his face to the side again. "Don't even think about it. You don't come until I do!"

Fearful as to what she would do to him if he came before she did, he reached down between her legs to stroke her under her soaking knickers.

"Yessss… yesss…!" She was coming apart. "Unnnnnghhh!"

Draco looked up at Granger in fascination, her hand still gripping his tie. She threw her head back, her back arched, and her breasts pushed out towards his face. She bucked and her body shuddered on top of him, as he continued to stroke her clit and watch her come apart.

He groaned and strained under her grip on his tie and around his legs. Watching and feeling her in the throes of her orgasm brought him over the edge. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he came with a muffled yell. His hips bucked, and she bounced up, as her strength waned. They held onto each other, her fingers dug in to his arms so hard he knew he’d bruise. After the last shudder passed through them, Draco gazed up at her, wide eyed, enthralled, and completely unbelieving that this had just happened. Hermione hung her head, unable to look him in the eye.

Everything was quiet. Nobody in the class said anything. And then they heard quiet sobbing.

Hermione loosened her grip on Draco's tie. He stretched his neck and stared at her, as her crying increased in volume. She pounded his chest with her fist.

"What did you _do_ to me!" she yelled at him.

He winced. She knew it wasn't Malfoy. He seemed to have only figured out that she was this attracted to him in Potions. But she didn't care, she was too upset. The realization of what she had done was coming to her full force. She had to scream at someone.

"Granger," he began huskily, "I didn't-."

She pushed herself off of him and ran crying from the room after unlocking the door, unable to look at anyone. The Shield Charm dissolved, as did the ropes and gags binding Harry and Ron, and everyone's wands came clanking to the floor. Neville's hit him on the head.

"Ow!" He rubbed his skull.

Parvati said, "I'll go find a teacher, I don't know about any of you, but I don't want to be the one to wake up Snape." There was a murmur of agreement from the class.

"I'll go after Hermione," offered Lavender, and she collected hers and Hermione's things and left.

Ron and Harry got up off the ground and glared at Malfoy, who was already getting pats on the back and comments of admiration from his fellow Slytherins. They could also hear lewd remarks about Hermione. The rest of the students were tense and uncomfortably aroused, not knowing what to do or say.

Blaise looked oddly content.

Ron was boiling with anger. His vision was clouding with red and he felt a humming in his ears. How _dare_ Malfoy touch Hermione in that way? He made to lunge towards Malfoy, but felt a hand on his arm, restraining him. Harry shook his head. Ron's eyes bulged. He had to beat Malfoy's arse _now_.

"Wait," Harry whispered to Ron.

Beating up Malfoy wouldn't mitigate the embarrassment and shame that Hermione would feel, but he knew just how to turn this thing around in her favor. They could beat up Malfoy anytime. Harry smiled darkly at the thought.

"Wow. She made you her bitch, Malfoy." Harry quipped. "Is she going to take you with a strap-on next time?"

And just like that, the tension in the classroom diffused. Everyone burst out laughing, even the Slytherins. Malfoy rounded menacingly on Harry and looked every bit as ready to kill as Ron. His moment of glory had turned into humiliation. Malfoy and Ron stepped forward, wands ready, both only too happy to start hexing each other when Professor Flitwick entered the room with Parvati.

" _Expelliarmus!_ "

Both wands flew out of the dueling wizards' hands.

They looked at Professor Flitwick, anger still dominating their features.

" _Rennervate._ "

Snape stood up groggily and shook his head, remembering, "What…What happened?" His expression darkened and his voice lowered. "And _where_ is Miss Granger?" he asked, surveying the room. Only the faintest signs of his rage could be seen.

Everyone began shouting at once.

"- not her fault! –"

"was cursed! – "

"Malfoy did it! - "

"- didn't know what she was doing!"

"I didn't curse her, Weasel!"

" _Silencio_!" Snape roared.

Blessed silence. He rubbed his temples. Much better.

He contemplated his students amusedly as they shouted and waved their hands without a sound. They looked like fish out of water.

"What has happened in my classroom and _what in Merlin's name_ possessed Miss Granger to throw a Stunner at me?"

They went to a corner to converse. Everyone leaned in to listen to the hushed conversation. Professor Flitwick explained what he knew from Parvati's worried descriptions.

"So you see, Severus. It seems that someone has indeed cursed Miss Granger. I don't think it's a charm, there is none that I know of that would affect a person so. According to what Miss Patil has told me, she has been afflicted since this morning. We might be dealing with a potion, and therefore, your area of expertise."

"Yes," Snape rubbed his jaw. His eyebrow twitched, the only sign that he was still incredibly angry. "It sounds like _Lustfarae_ , from what you've described. A simple antidote, but it needs to sit for twenty-four hours before taken. If she doesn't take the antidote, the effects will stay in Miss Granger for roughly a week, depending on how much she's ingested."

Snape thought a bit, searching his vast knowledge. "The antidote, while easy to prepare, is not readily available due to the loss of properties within three hours of making it. I'll get started right away so that we won't have a repeat… incident."

Snape shuddered. The last thing he wanted to see was more students rutting against each other like dogs in heat. The Dark Lord's return would almost be preferable.

"And what can we do with Miss Granger in the meantime? From what I've read of _Lustfarae_ , she could be quite dangerous to others if-" Flitwick's voice trailed off, not wanting to continue the sentence.

Snape interrupted, not wanting to hear the rest of the sentence.

"Have someone explain to Poppy what has happened. She needs to test Miss Granger for traces of _Lustfarae_ , just to be certain, although I'm positive that's what was given to her. Like the antidote, it's an easy potion to make. If it is indeed _Lustfarae_ , I'd recommend that Miss Granger stay away from Mr. Malfoy at all costs," he said as he eyed Draco, who was straining to hear, like everyone else. "But at the same time, if he agrees, he should be available to her if she needs him, perhaps with faculty supervision," at this suggestion he looked ill, "to prevent further—" His eyes narrowed at the memory of being stunned in his own classroom. "—injury to others. If he doesn’t agree then we should put her out and isolate her until the antidote is ready. Although I'm not sure stunning her would work."

Flitwick nodded and quickly exited the classroom.

Snape suddenly rounded on his classroom in a swish of robes, and they all jumped back in surprise, having been intent on listening in on the conversation. He gave a sinister smile.

"In addition to the assignment of failing to produce a satisfactory Mandrake draught today, you are all assigned an additional two feet on the ingredients, and how the properties of each specific item affect the outcome of the potion as a whole, due next Monday."

There was a flurry of movement as his class waved their arms and mouthed protests at his unfairness while still unable to make a sound.

Snape gave his class a small smile. "Class dismissed."

"Oh," he said as if just remembering. " _Finite Incantatum_."

The silently moving mouths suddenly returned to full volume as students complained about the homework and eagerly discussed the events of their Potions class.

Just as the last of the students exited the classroom, Snape called out. "Mr. Malfoy, you may stay."

Draco froze - it was too much to hope for that he'd be getting out of this scot-free.

"You're dead, Malfoy!" Weasley's voice rang from the hallway.

 _Great._ A reminder of what else was coming to him. As if the blow that his reputation just took wasn't bad enough. He seethed in anger.

Snape eyed Draco carefully as he approached his desk. His eyes narrowed as he studied him. Draco glared back.

"Did you do anything to Miss Granger to alter her behavior?"

"Of course not," he said, cockily. "If I wanted her, I'd have her."

Snape's eyebrows rose.

"What? It's true."

Snape studied Draco some more. "Have you ever heard of the _Lustfarae_ potion?"

Draco looked at Snape and thought a moment before answering. "No."

"It appears that’s what she’s been given. She will be under the influence of _Lustfarae_ for the next twenty-four hours and you, unfortunately, are the target of her lust."

Snape placed his hands on his desk and leaned forward towards Draco.

"How do you feel about further _relations_ with Miss Granger, if she would need it to prevent further injury to yourself or others? It is very difficult to contain someone who has been given _Lustfarae_ , and denied themselves release for so long, as I am sure that she had done today. Their physical and magical strength becomes intensified to sate their desire. And as we all have witnessed, they can become extremely dangerous when their sense of morality is compromised."

"I guess, if it would prevent further injury to others, I could… lower myself." Draco smirked at Snape.

Snape rolled his eyes at the double entendre.

Draco turned to go - this was going to be fun.

"Oh, and Mr. Malfoy?" As if reading his thoughts, and he probably did, Snape added, "You are not to go near Miss Granger. She can't hear, see, or smell you for the next twenty-four hours, unless someone tells you that she needs you. Do _not_ approach her on your own. Is that clear?"

Draco scoffed, "As if I'd want to be with her any more than I'd have to be." He sauntered out of the classroom.

 _Bull_ , Snape thought, shuffling his parchments in disgust.

He hated teenagers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the next chapter, Hermione tries to figure out who gave her the potion, and Draco wants more action!


	3. Tuesday evening

Draco walked down the corridor after leaving the Potions class. While rubbing his slightly bruised face, he heard whispered voices, and paused. The voices were coming from around the corner. He approached quietly and listened, scowling. Scarface and Weaselbee. They were discussing Granger's condition and intending to jump him as he left.

There wasn't another way out of the dungeons. He had two options. The first was taking them both on. He was good at dueling – the war had proven that. But he didn't know if he was _that_ good. One of them possibly, but two was more difficult. The other option was skiving off Ancient Runes and heading back the other way to the Slytherin common room. It was nearly the end of the day anyway.

Anger returned and made his face hot. The blow to his ego after Pothead called him Granger's bitch made him choose the former option. He'd have to deal with them sooner or later. Better to do it now.

Draco had the element of surprise since neither one of them seemed to have heard him approaching. He could probably take one of them out while he dueled the other. Quietly, he cast a Disillusionment Spell onto himself and a Silencing Charm on his feet. He wouldn't be completely invisible, but if they weren't paying attention, they wouldn't notice his blurry figure approaching until it was too late. He kept to the far wall facing the corner so that they would come into his line of attack.

Simple was usually the best way to go. No time for fancy hexes, no matter how tempting. If it came to physical beatings, he didn't know how he'd fare. They were all relatively tall and muscular from Quidditch. Of course, it would be incredibly satisfying to pound into them after today's hit to his reputation. He was itching for a fight.

The Weasel came into his line of sight first.

_"Stupefy!"_

Ron fell as Harry sprang into action.

_"Expelliarmus!"_

_"Expelliarmus!"_

The wands were knocked out of Draco's and Harry's hands at the same time. They looked down at their fallen wands and then back at each other. Harry's eye twitched. Draco bared his teeth. Neither made a move to retrieve the wands. Their fists clenched and unclenched as they glared menacingly across the corridor at each other. Both had pent up anger.

At the same time, they growled and lunged, collided and fell to the ground. Fists flew and kicks landed, elbows collided resulting in grunts; Harry briefly got Draco in a headlock. Draco broke out of it and scrambled to pin him. They wrestled each other to the ground.

 _Crack!_ Draco's nose broke.

 _Crunch!_ Harry's rib split.

The two grunted and proceeded to pummel each other as best they could until the punches got weaker, less frequent, and the kicks came less forcefully. Pain and exhaustion took over. They backed up to their respective walls and eyed each other warily.

Draco slid down onto the floor against the wall, arms resting on his bent knees, blood streaming down his face. Harry sat down against the other wall with his legs splayed, the wind knocked out of him. Both tried to catch their breath and eyed each other warily.

"You'll pay for cursing her, Ferret boy. This isn't over," Harry wheezed.

Draco winced at the aching pain in his nose. "I didn't do a damn thing to your Mudblood.”

Harry's eyes flashed at the derogatory term and Draco smirked.

"That would be too obvious. I'm not _daft_ , you know. And," Draco gasped in pain as he tried to move, "I get plenty of pussy."

Harry glared at him. Malfoy pressed on; he didn't want to have to worry about them attacking him in the corridors every time he was alone.

"If I wanted to embarrass her like that, I'd have her do it with Crabbe or Goyle. And I'd give her _Amortentia_ , not _Lustfarae_."

Harry's eyebrows rose. "Is that so?"

"Try turning that one around in her favor. I don't think you could if she was mooning after one of them for a week. At least with me," he smirked, "she's got something to brag about."

Harry scowled and wheezed again, clutching his side. "That's rich, Malfoy. She's scouring herself of your inbred germs, not bragging."

Ignoring him, Draco continued, wincing as pain shot through his leg. "And being a—closet Dominatrix—well, let's just say it's increased her fear factor."

"What." Harry said menacingly, eyeing him.

"Think about it shit-for-brains. If anybody was scared of the Head Girl before, they'll think twice about disobeying her now."

Draco wiped some blood off his face and smiled wickedly at Harry. "Or maybe they'd disobey her on purpose. Who knew she had that in her?" He thought back to her slapping him in third year and chuckled at the memory.

_Nice..._

The blood wouldn't stop coming out of his nose. He pinched the bridge, looked up at the ceiling, and continued in a slightly nasal voice. "Being a lovesick fool would embarrass her. That's how I would have done it."

Harry clenched his jaw and tentatively tried to bend his legs. "You seem to have thought about this quite a lot _._ "

"Not really, you’re just used to Granger doing all the thinking for you. Any amount of brain activity will seem like a lot to you."

Harry ignored the barb. "Then who did it?" Another wheeze. "Parkinson? Zabini? Nott?"

Draco held in a sigh of relief now that Potter saw his logic. He was in the clear.

"Why a Slytherin, Pothead? Doesn't Granger have any other enemies? What would Pansy's motivation be for having the Mudblood queen-" Harry clenched his fists and he smirked again, "-jump the Pureblood king? She's had a thing for me since fifth year. Or any Slytherins, for that matter? The only reason that a Slytherin'd have Granger jump me would be to get back at _me_ for something.

"Huh, now there's a thought…" he looked above Harry's head briefly, thinking. "Even so, choosing Granger doesn't make sense. Better someone so ugly, she could force a hard-on to go soft."

He saw Harry nod grudgingly out of the corner of his eye, trying to get his breathing back to normal.

Malfoy strained to get up and leave. "Now that I have you convinced, kindly explain to the Weasel there so that I don't have to worry about being jumped by his pansy arse."

He winced again as he pulled himself up to a standing position. "Is two on one, how you Gryffindors normally get it on?"

Harry looked down at his bloody hands, breathing heavily. Malfoy had a point. Should he apologize for ambushing him? No, that was too much. But still…

"Hey, Malfoy –" Harry started.

Malfoy cut him off, as he limped down the hall backwards, facing Harry. "Whoever it was, I owe them a bout of thanks. I never would have thought of going after the Mudblood. Her tits are small, but they feel amazing." His hands made a lewd motion, and he winked.

Harry raged and wheezed while trying unsuccessfully to get up. "If you even go near-"

Draco called back after rounding the corner. "Don't forget to wake up your lover!"

Harry got to his feet, still wheezing, and bared his teeth. _Fucking prat!_ He looked over at Ron.

" _Rennervate!_ "

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione was in the library, all the way in the back behind the maze of the Restricted Section where no one usually went, sitting on a stool in the farthest corner from the entrance. She was hiding. She couldn't look anyone in the eye after today's madness.

Madam Pomfrey had just given her a lecture, after apologizing to her profusely for not taking her seriously earlier in the morning ( _hah!_ ), about _Lustfarae_ and the symptoms. Reading about it in the library hadn't taught her anything new.

It was late evening now, and the antidote would be ready around five o'clock in the evening tomorrow. She sighed; five o'clock just couldn't come soon enough.

She was supposed to let Pomfrey know if she had the urge – as soon as possible - for Malfoy. She was not supposed to wait. How embarrassing. Thinking back, she would much rather have masturbated in the infirmary in front of Madam Pomfrey than tell Malfoy that she needed to get her rocks off with him, and have him smugly oblige her. It's not that he wasn't attractive, she just she didn't want to be involved with him.

She growled in frustration. What a horrible situation this was.

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She was excused from all of her classes tomorrow and planned to stay the entire time here, alone. Maybe she'd go out for a run. A long run. It would be worth the pain in her knees. She hoped that Harry and Ron would understand her not wanting to be near them. She couldn't face them, or anyone, who had seen or heard about her romp. The whole school would know by now.

She sighed and returned to reading about _Lustfarae_ on page 742 in the sixth volume of _Moste Potente Potions_ when she noticed that the page was folded at the top. She knitted her eyebrows together. Dog-eared! Flipping through the volume, she noticed that another page was dog-eared. The second potion caused the person to smell like dung. She gasped. The person who cursed her had been using this book!

She paged through the volume more carefully but found no more marked pages. After copying the contents of the two potions to her notebook with a swish of her wand, she put the sixth volume down on the floor, and walked purposefully to get the fifth to see if anything else was dog-eared. For the first time since this morning, she felt back in control.

She was going to catch the miserable bastard who did this.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco glanced at his reflection in the mirror of the loo. Potter had really roughed him up. However, the fight was cathartic and he felt better, despite all the injuries.

" _Episkey_."

A crunch brought his nose back into shape. He grunted at the pain. At least now he didn't have to worry about being lynched. The next step was to fix his reputation. Taking on both Pothead and Weaselboy had made him feel better, but he didn't want the whole school to think of him as Granger's bitch. Least of all her, even though it turned him on… _immensely_.

He just didn't want anyone else to know that.

 _Merlin,_ she was both sexy and scary in Potions. He'd be wanking to that memory of Potty and the Weasel watching them go at it for a long time. He washed the blood off his face and hands, cast a few healing spells over his more prominent bruises and dried himself with his wand. He looked rugged, rather than his usual polished self. His chin-length hair was tousled. Even though the blood was washed off, there was still some scratching and bruising to be seen. No matter, he’d survived much worse than a schoolyard fight.

One way to reassert himself was to start with Granger. If he came to her and initiated the contact, he would be the one in control. She would beg him, not command him. He would decide what to give her and when, and she wouldn't have any choice but to wait and submit. According to what he knew of _Lustfarae_ , the sooner he sated her lust from the moment it was incited, the less likely she would be to gain that extra physical strength and magical power.

There was a thrill in the potential danger going after Granger entailed which made the whole situation that much more arousing. Maybe having his and his parents’ life under threat for two years impaired his judgement. Maybe any physical harm she would do to him paled in comparison to being tortured by the Dark Lord.

His stomach clenched in anticipation as he left the loo to find her. And where would Granger be? He smiled darkly. He'd wait until near closing time for the library. They were more likely to be the only ones there.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione was sitting on the floor in her far corner of the Restricted Section with all ten volumes of _Moste Potente Potions_ spread out next to her, opened to various dog-eared pages. She had levitated the entire series from the Potions section to this corner so that she could remain isolated. In her notebook, she had copies of thirteen potions, their uses, ingredients, preparation instructions, and antidotes, if applicable. Maybe if she could understand the logic of whoever had cursed her in choosing the potion, she would be able to pinpoint who the perpetrator was.

They had certainly done their research, combing through all ten volumes.

Thorough and hardworking. _Ravenclaw,_ she thought.

Why these thirteen? And why _Lustfarae_? Why not the other twelve? She studied her notebook. One thing the potions had in common was that they would all cause some degree of embarrassment or mortification. But she knew that would be the case already. Also, they all had known antidotes. So, the perpetrator wasn't completely sadistic.

She turned back to _Lustfarae_ and studied the properties again when she noticed a few new things that made her feel uneasy. The potion was a white liquid and could be administered through the skin. There was only one white liquid that her skin had come into contact with lately.

The hair potion.

She closed her eyes and let out a breath. She had to have taken the potion between yesterday's Potions class, since she didn't find Malfoy attractive then, and this morning's breakfast, when she clearly felt the effects. The hair potion certainly fell into that time frame.

_But it wasn't like her!_

If Ginny wanted to publicly humiliate her, she'd tell her off and hex her in front of everyone, making sure that Hermione knew just who was doing it and why. That was more Ginny's style. She wasn't devious and backstabbing.

Also, giving it to her as a hair potion would be very irresponsible. What if somebody had touched her head while the potion was sitting for an hour? She wouldn't be the only one affected. What if someone else helped her apply it? Or rinse it out? No, Ginny was more responsible than that.

She thought of Draco being chased down the hall by five bat-shit crazy girls and chuckled despite herself.

And why would Ginny do it? They'd already had it out over Ron. More than once. She cringed at the memories. She knew that Ginny still held a slight resentment towards her but thought she'd mostly gotten over it. At least, it seemed like she had. Ron had moved on and he was with Lavender. He was happy. Seeing Ron's romantic bliss helped Ginny and Hermione's friendship get back on track tremendously.

No, no. It definitely wasn't Ginny. She didn't want to think of her friend in that way.

Perhaps it was Lavender's lip gloss? Could she have mixed the potion in it? But Lavender had also put it on. At least, it looked like she had. Hermione didn't make a point of studying Lavender's grooming habits up close. In any case, the person who carried this out had to be fairly intelligent to do so without getting caught. No, it definitely wasn't Lavender.

What if she ingested it? Then it would have to have been either from the quick meal she picked up at dinner yesterday or at breakfast this morning. But how would someone get it into her food? That would be extremely difficult and require some finesse. She thought some more. No one was with her as she had picked up dinner, but lots of people were at breakfast.

_Including the Ravenclaws!_

Now _they'd_ be smart enough to pull a stunt like this. And Anthony had slapped her back a little _too_ hard this morning, causing her plate to jostle. She wondered if they were jealous of her academic standing. Ravenclaws had a history of being at the top of the class, and ever since she came to Hogwarts, that position had been taken by a Gryffindor every single year.

The potion was certainly messing with her ability to study. Then again, it was only going to last until the reason for her behavior was identified and she got the antidote. If the Ravenclaws wanted to seriously harm her grades, this wasn't the way to do it. Snape had known right away what she had been given.

When it came down to it, the dog-eared pages showed that the person wanted to humiliate her. Maybe the Ravenclaws didn't want to take the top place from her unfairly, seeing as they could respect her hard work, and only wanted a bit of revenge. She started furiously scribbling her theories in another one of her notebooks, but blaming the Ravenclaws was the weakest theory of the bunch. None of them were really that vindictive.

Or so she thought.

The problem was that the whole thing just _reeked_ of Slytherin. It was cunning; it was devious; it was well thought out; it was _exactly_ what someone of their house would do. _And_ Blaise Zabini came by her table at breakfast that day.

But what would his motivation be? Was he working with someone else from his house? She tapped her quill against her chin in thought. They had only started talking this year from their shared Head duties. As far as she knew, there was no animosity between them. Indeed, he would occasionally flirt with her. Perhaps he didn’t like that she hadn’t responded to his flirtations? She knew she tended to take charge of the Head duties and treat him as more of a deputy. She knew she could be bossy at times. Was he resentful of that?

And he and Malfoy were friends, weren't they? Why make Malfoy the target? She wrote down Blaise's name, added a question mark, and then stopped and sniffed.

_No! Was he…?_

She looked up and sniffed again. It was Malfoy’s singularly clean and masculine scent.

What a complete and utter _prat!_

He must know that she was here. How could he take advantage of the situation like this?

Madam Pomfrey had explained to her that he was told to keep away unless she asked for him and to also call a teacher to be present. This whole fiasco was so humiliating. Apparently he didn’t care. Weren't Slytherin's supposed to have a sense of self-preservation? As the scene in Potions had proven, she could be quite dangerous.

She felt that familiar tightening between her legs. Maybe she could get away with masturbating and take a sleeping draught until morning. Although Madame Pomfrey thought she would likely wake up in the middle of the night in order to have sex with him.

Well, he wasn't winning this round. She was going to do her best to go into a coma-like sleep until morning. Maybe have Ginny throw a Stunner at her, although the medi-witch had doubts that would work either. Regardless, she needed to get away from him.

She grabbed her notebooks, cast a Silencing Charm on her feet, and quickly got up. She gazed forlornly at the scattered books on the floor. She hated it when people didn't return books to their place. Madam Pince would have to forgive her this once. She crept as quickly and as quietly as she could through the maze of the Restricted Section, turning corners of shelves and books, making for her bag.

"Graaaaaangeeerrrrr," she heard a male voice call.

She instinctively ducked, turned around, and tried to listen. He had probably silenced his feet as well.

_Git. What a complete and utter fucking. Git._

She saw her bag with her books, papers and quills spread out on the table at the end of the row of books. Was he waiting for her there? Maybe she could make a run for her things and sprint to the library entrance. But then, she'd be in full view. He would be expecting that and would follow her out, trying to catch her before she got back to Gryffindor Tower.

She could use the Summoning Charm on her bag. Could she summon everything else on the table all at once? If so, she could leave the library undetected by taking a convoluted path towards the exit and by staying behind the stacks against the wall. Hopefully, he wouldn't even notice when she had left. She'd be safe back in Gryffindor Tower by then, and he'd still be looking for her here. Yes, that was probably the best course of action.

She inhaled. Mmmmm, she could still smell him, and she loved it. She shuddered and began to feel hot between her legs.

" _Accio_ bag!" Her satchel flew down the row of shelves to her with a whoosh. She looked at the books, papers, quill, and ink spread out on the table. She took a deep breath, and concentrated on all of the objects. Slowly, she exhaled and swished her wand.

" _Accio_ study supplies!" Delightedly, she watched as all the contents of her table flew towards her and landed in her bag, which she held open.

She shoved her notebook inside, threw her bag over her shoulder, turned around, and began to work her way towards the back wall of the library between the rows and stacks of books. She turned right and retraced her steps back towards the corner where she had been sitting before.

"Graaaaaangeeeerrrrr…"

She stopped in her tracks, heart thudding loudly in her chest with anticipation. Where was he? She could smell him everywhere, but it didn't help her locate him. He must have charmed his voice so that she couldn't pinpoint where he was. And, dammit, if the anticipation of this chase of his wasn't turning her on even more.

"That was quite impressive magic for a Mudblood," he purred behind her. She whipped around and pointed her wand at… nothing. It had sounded like his voice had come from right behind her. _Dammit!_ He knew where she was if he could do that. The Summoning Charm must have given her away.

Her stomach clenched in nervous excitement. She had make a run for it. Giving up all pretenses, she bolted towards the exit of the stacks in an effort to get to the library entrance in the shortest possible distance. After rounding a corner, she slammed into his hard, warm body.

Malfoy's hands were on her shoulders and he steadied her to keep her from falling backwards to the ground. Her arms burned where he touched her. Slowly, she looked up from his chest to his face, following the lines of his tie to his throat, jaw, cheekbones and eyes. He was too close. _Way too close!_ She gazed up into his grey eyes, and visibly shuddered as he smirked down at her.

"Fancy meeting you here, Granger. Why hurry off?"

He leaned in towards her, as she backed up and shrugged his hands off her arms. "Why aren’t you staying away, Malfoy? They told you –"

"And since when do I do as I'm told?" His voice became husky. "Unless _you_ tell me what to do."

She flushed at the memory of slapping his face and ordering him to make her come before he did. She still couldn’t believe she had done that. And just a few hours ago! With growing trepidation she realized he was backing her into the very corner that she was sitting in earlier with the Potions books.

Could she talk her way out of this one? She steadied her voice.

"Look Malfoy, we will just forget about…” she motioned between herself and his slowly approaching body. “…this. I can go… take care of things.” He quirked an eyebrow in amusement. “I’ll drink a sleeping draught, knock myself out until five o'clock tomorrow afternoon when the antidote is ready," she didn't know if that would be effective enough but she could try. "And in return, I'll… do your homework." Her eyes widened at the perfect bargaining chip. "I'll do that Ancient Runes project for you! You were confused by Gaussius anyway - isn't there something else that you want? Something besides…” To her complete and utter shame, she squeaked out the next word. “…sex?"

She couldn't keep the desperation out of her voice. Draco was in his glory. This was exactly how he wanted her. Pleading with him.

"Hmm…" he considered, tilting his head and looking down at her with a playful smile, still backing her into the corner. "Homework…"

 _Bollocks_! He was toying with her.

He leered at her. "I could watch you… take care of things." Smiling lasciviously, he cast a Silencing Charm around them. "That might be a sufficient exchange."

Her felt her temperature rise at the thought of him watching her masturbate. She backed away from him and he kept walking forward, sauntering at a leisurely pace as if he had all the time in the world. He kept the distance between them close, their chests almost touching, but not quite.

"That's even worse," she whispered.

His lips curled suggestively in answer. "I'd do it for you much better than you could."

She gasped audibly and didn’t doubt that was true. Some wetness escaped into her knickers at the memory of him touching her down there in the potions classroom. She stumbled over the pile of potion books left on the floor. The back of her legs hit the stool in the corner, and she was forced to sit on it. He leaned down over her, his face almost touching hers with an arm on either side of her head, encasing her. His hot breath caressed her throat and mouth. She clutched her satchel to her body, hoping it would offer some protection from him, and nervously stared up at him. She was cornered, literally and figuratively.

Slowly, she let out a breath and held her head up, pulling together what was left of her composure. "Fine, Malfoy. You win. Let's get it over with. We'll find an abandoned classroom, lock the door, and just finish quickly."

He chuckled and shook his head slightly.

_Merlin! He was sexier than anybody had a right to be._

His eyes stared down at her with both lust and amusement. "Oh no, that's not what I consider a win." His gaze turned predatory. "This time we're doing it _my_ way."

He leaned down even further, as if to kiss her. His lips were so close to hers that she could feel them lightly grazing her mouth. She tingled all over. What was he doing? She was already turned on; they needed to have sex or at least get her off. He didn't have to continue teasing her; surely he must know that. Madam Pomfrey assured her that she would brief him as well. He was taking a huge risk coming to her by himself. She had recommended that a Professor be on stand-by if they were to have relations in case she became too violent.

Her breath hitched as the hot air from his mouth tickled her jaw.

His voice lowered, and he spoke with his lips barely touching hers. "I guarantee you'll like it."

"Stop it," she whispered. She closed her eyes, and turned her face to the side.

His lips spread into a grin as he stared at the line from her jaw down to her exposed neck and heaving chest. She was beginning to sweat.

"I want to taste you again."

He slowly ran his lips along her jaw line, opening them slightly and darting his tongue out to graze her skin. She shivered, and rubbed her thighs together. His grin widening, he lowered his right arm and placed his hand on her left knee, gentle but firm. She turned to him, dropped her bag unceremoniously to the floor, and tried to shove off his hand with both of hers. His grip tightened on her knee and she winced.

"I don't want you to touch me like that. I just want to get this over with. I'll be a quick and easy lay, okay?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Where's the fun in that?" His left hand came down to her waist, gently tugging her blouse out from the band of her skirt. She could feel his fingers probing her flesh.

"What are you –" Panicked, she brought one hand up to his on her waist and tried to push it down. "– we don't have to be undressed!"

She succeeded in pushing the hand on her waist downward, but the hand on her knee steadily inched slowly up her thigh and under her skirt. He was kneading her flesh with his forefingers and tracing patterns with his thumb. Her left hand wasn't nearly strong enough to keep his right hand at bay.

"I want to see you," he said with darkened eyes.

She breathed in his scent again. He was too close to her! Her nipples hardened; her thighs tingled. Everywhere his hand touched sent a jolt straight to her groin. The left hand that she had succeeded in pushing downwards was now groping her arse, eliciting a whimper from her.

She squirmed and briefly released her grip on his left hand. Draco's breathing sped up and he gave a quick tug on her blouse before she could react. His hand snaked up the side of her shirt and started to probe its way up her ribcage. She felt as if she were on fire. She tried to pull his hand down with hers, but she wasn't strong enough to do it while keeping her other hand on her thigh. His fingers crept upwards and pulled the cup of her bra down. Her heart rate increased and she felt out of control. It was too much!

"Stop it," she pleaded. "I don't like it."

"Yes –" His thumb swiped the underside of her bared breast and she gasped. "– you do."

"No, I –" She knew it was futile to lie. "I don't like _you_ doing it to me. You're a … I just don't like _you_ ," she spat out.

She felt his hand creep even closer to the hot pulsing center between her legs. She inhaled sharply.

"I know." He bared his teeth at her in a wicked grin. "That's what makes this so much fun."

She didn't quite hate him before, but she was getting pretty close to it now. Her anger mingled with her desire and she was determined to not let him win. Whatever “winning” was at this point. She moved her hand from her upper thigh and clamped it down between her legs. Draco glanced down and raised an eyebrow.

Undeterred, he moved his right hand up and stroked the creases between her fingers, as if it was her clit. Her eyes widened at the blatant insinuation and some of her wetness seeped between her knickers and fingers. His fingers probed the creases as if seeking entrance and felt the moisture.

His cock twitched. She was ready.

Breathing more heavily, he pulled his hand back. Hermione shivered as his eyes pierced hers. Slowly, deliberately, he licked her juices off his fingertips.

"Fuck," she dazedly whispered.

His fingers caressed her bared breast underneath her blouse, and she involuntarily arched towards him and groaned. Draco's already prominent erection was straining through his trousers, but he needed to hear her beg before he took her. He needed to be in control this time. He needed to decide what she would feel, when she would come.

"No, unnngh! I –" she gasped as she felt his two fingers pinch her nipple.

 _Oh!_ It was exquisite pain. She tried to pull his left hand down with her right and bucked her hips on the stool. He watched her reactions, and she shut her eyes and turned her head to the side; she couldn't take the heat of his eyes on her.

His fingers slowly increased the pressure on her nipple and he twisted it so slowly, back and forth, back and forth, increasing and decreasing the pressure. The pace of her breathing increased and her body flushed with heat. His right hand was groping her inner thigh, between her legs, stroking and kneading, pressing between the creases of her fingers as she struggled to keep her hand clamped in place, stroking her up and down.

"Stop it," she moaned, as he stared at her, "stop it…"

She was hot between her legs, and she wanted friction. She desperately wanted him to touch her down there, touch her everywhere, but she couldn't let him.

"Hermione," he growled. Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of her first name on his lips.

"Look at me." She shivered at the sound of need in his voice.

"Please, stop," she pleaded again.

The pressure on her nipple increased unbearably. "Ow… " she groaned.

The pressure increased; she pulled on his left hand with her right, but she couldn't pull his hand off of her breast.

"Owwwww…." she groaned. His smile widened.

The pressure on her nipple intensified. She bit her lip and his mouth opened slightly as he watched her experience both pleasure and agony. She began to writhe on the stool.

 _Almost there,_ he thought.

"Owwww… stopitstopitstopit - Draco, please stop it! Please!" she whimpered, moaning again.

He increased the pressure even further; she let out a scream of frustration, and giving in, she brought her second hand up and pried his fingers off her nipple. Her sigh of relief turned into a choked gasp as his fingers slid underneath the fabric of her knickers to rub the nub of her clitoris.

A wave of heat encompassed her entire body. She threw her head back and pushed her pelvis forward while gripping his shoulders.

"Merlin!" she gasped. She was hot, she was wet, and she wanted him inside her. Now.

His constrained erection was hurting him as he watched her writhe on the stool. One hand of his was massaging her breast and twisting the nipple he had just punished; the other was rubbing circles around her clit. She was on the brink, but he wasn't giving it to her. Not yet.

"Open your eyes, Hermione," he growled again. He needed to have her watching him. Needed to see her react to him.

She opened her lust-filled eyes and gazed at him, moaning as a shudder passed through her. His finger kept circling her clit, and she tried to move her pelvis so that it would graze the nub, but he always kept his thumb just out of reach. She groaned in frustration.

"More… there… come on!" she panted.

He chuckled, loving every minute. "You'll have to ask nicely. I still remember how your prissy little mouth bossed me around last time."

"More, please… Draco?" she pleaded softly and moaned again as his finger continued to circle her nub.

"I didn't hear you," he said in a low voice.

Hermione whimpered in frustration, beyond caring about her pride. "Please Draco, I need you to touch me… there! Now!… right there! Please! Pleeeeease!"

Rather than give her what she'd asked for, he switched to circling her nub with his thumb and inserted a finger into her core. She gasped and bucked her hips. He groaned at the feel of the hot, tight walls inside of her. His fingers felt for the hardened area of her G-spot and began to apply pressure there, as he brought his finger in and out, curling it upwards so that it would roughly stroke that sensitive area.

She latched onto his shoulders and thrust her body towards him. "Oh, Merliiiiiiin!" she whined as she fisted his clothes.

Hermione didn't think that she could get any more wound up, but the application of pressure to her inside wall, while still denying her clit contact with his thumb was driving her mad. Draco slowed the pace of his stroking down. She screamed in frustration again and writhed on the stool.

"No, please, Draco! Do it faster!" She was half shouting, half sobbing, fucking herself on his fingers.

Draco picked up the pace again.

"Oh yes! More! Please, Draco! Just like that!" She dug her fingers into his arms, clenched his shirt, and thrashed her head back and forth alternately letting out more moans and shouts with the intensity of his stroking. He stared at her, fascinated.

He inserted another finger and began to stroke her G-spot with both.

"Yes! More! Draco! Please! I can't…unnnggghhh… I need… More!" She writhed on the stool, completely drenched in sweat, eyes hooded and full of lust, pleading for him. Her pelvis pushed forward, legs spread as wide as they could go, well beyond any sense of shame. Completely and utterly at his mercy.

Draco was thoroughly enjoying her sexual frustration. And yet he still didn't want her to come. Having her in his control, begging him to get her off was too much of a euphoria to let go of so quickly. He couldn't stop, even to take her himself.

Hermione Granger at his mercy, begging him for release, was enthralling.

His iron gaze remained unwavering as she bit her lip, staring up at him with pleading eyes.

He leaned in and growled in her ear. "Tell me who is in control."

She didn't care anymore. "You are!" she sobbed. "You are! Just… please! Draco!"

Enjoying her reactions, he gave her a wicked grin. His circling slowed down, as did his stroking of her G-spot. She shook her head, half sobbing.

"No, no! Please don't slow down! I need more!" He kept up the slow, agonizing pace, and she bucked forward. Her body was screaming for release; _she_ was screaming for release. She gripped his shoulders again, trying to bring him closer, and she thrust her pelvis forward towards him, trying anything to relieve the tension that she was feeling. She would have touched herself, far beyond the mortification of doing it in front of him, but she knew that it had to be him who got her off.

"I need more!" she sobbed.

Suddenly, her bucking and shuddering stopped and her voice lowered an octave.

"I need more."

A jolt of fear shot through him and he briefly regretted coming to her without notifying someone else. Draco's head snapped up in attention to see her eyes blazing at him.

_Shit!_

Hermione, no longer sobbing and out of control, grabbed his hair and pushed his head down to her core.

"Make me come. Now!" she ordered as she rested her legs on his shoulders and trapped him in place.

He fucked up. He should have made her come then. He should have told Blaise to back him up. Could've, should've, would've… He pulled her knickers to the side and proceeded to lick her clit while finger-fucking her.

A shudder went through her body and her heels dug into his back. "Yes, yes! Just like that! Keep going! Keep going!"

As he felt her get close, he pinched her nub and rubbed it between his fingers.

"Unngh! Yeeesssssss!" she yelled.

Hermione screamed. She pinned his head between her legs with one hand and clutched his shirt with the other. Pulling hard, she ripped holes where her nails were, and fisted his hair painfully. Gripping him tightly with her hands and legs, she held on as spasm after spasm rocked through her. He continued licking her clit and fingering her as she shuddered and convulsed around his face, neck and shoulders. He felt her contractions around his fingers and groaned with the pleasure of feeling her come. She continued to rock back and forth, riding out the last of her orgasms until she felt no more.

After a few deep breaths, she released him from the hold of her legs. He made to stand up but she smacked his face to the side violently and he caught himself on the stacks so as not to fall on the floor.

"Enough!"

His eyes widened in terror. She hadn't returned to normal after coming?

She stood up from the stool as he warily backed up in the aisle, erection still prominent in his trousers. She was much smaller than him, but he knew better. She slowly approached him, shirt half unbuttoned and untucked, her skirt hiked up to one side, exposing part of her inner leg. He could see some of her juices and his saliva still glistening there on her thigh. One breast was out of her bra, uncovered, the nipple swollen from his pinching. Her eyes blazed at him in lust and anger.

Her petite form lunged at his much larger one, tackled him to the floor, and straddled him. He didn't even try to struggle, as he didn't want to make her more upset than she already was. Hermione reached underneath her skirt and tugged until her knickers ripped off her body and flew across the floor. He immediately grabbed them and stuffed them in his pocket while she worked on his belt. It certainly wasn't every day one got to fuck Hermione Granger and he was taking a souvenir.

She attacked his belt and whipped it off. He blanched at the thought of what she might do with it, but she was more intent on her release and left the belt discarded on the side. With one strong tug, she pulled his trousers down to mid thigh and then inserted her hands into the opening of his boxers to rip them apart, and released his member.

Not wasting any more time, she positioned herself on top and sank onto him. Draco choked a gasp at the sudden wet warmth encasing him. Her back arched and she groaned.

After taking a few seconds to catch her breath, she rocked back and forth, riding his erection. He brought up his other hand to cup her bottom, matching her pace as she slid back and forth on his length. He started giving her butt the occasional smack, egging her on.

"Yesss," she hissed.

She rode him harder. "I want you deeper… deeper!" she commanded him.

He grabbed her arms, pulled himself up and growled down at her. "Get on your hands and knees, Granger. I'll fuck you so deep you won't be able to walk."

She pushed him back down, and he winced, hitting his head on the floor. She let out a throaty laugh, smacked his face to the side, and grabbed his chin with her hand, forcing him to look at her. His cock twitched inside her and she smacked him again.

"Behave!" she said with small smile. "You don't get to be on top, and you don't get to do me from behind. Sit against the shelves!" She backslapped him, and his face stung. He glared back at her, but didn't say anything.

Draco pushed himself up on his hands and brought them back far enough, so that he was sitting against the wall. Hermione placed her feet on the wall on either side of him, bending her knees, as she gripped the sides of his arse to pull herself in closer. She slid back and forth using her legs to push herself out and her arms to pull herself in.

She felt phenomenal, but his rear was going to be very bruised and scratched by the time this was over, in addition to the bruises and aches that he already had from his fight with Potter. He hoped that would be all that would be bruised. Suddenly, she gripped his bum tightly and pulled herself in as far as she would go. She cried out, and he shuddered as a wave of pleasure surged through him.

He grabbed her arse and slid her back and forth, trying to get deeper inside of her. "Yes!" she cried out. "Faster!" she moaned, as he was close to coming.

His head flew to the side as she smacked him again. "Faster!" Another smack. "Faster!" Good Merlin! Between her smacking him and him plunging into her heat, he was going to come. He tried to slow the pace down, but she wouldn't let him.

"Hermione," he grunted. "You have to slow down, I-"

"Faster!"

_Smack!_

He tried thinking of Snape naked, McGonagall naked, Crabbe naked, Millicent Bulstrode naked. Desperate enough, he thought of the Weasel naked.

It didn't help.

"Hermione, wait! I'm…ungghhh!" He bucked as he came inside her and his hips lifted her off the ground. She smacked him, forced him down again, and continued to thrust herself on him, grabbing his bum as she did so. The last of his seed pumped into her and he let out a yell. He grabbed her rear to try to stop her, but she kept riding him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to get her off him, but she had him pinned down.

"No! Wait!” His body spasmed again and he gasped. His cock was too sensitive and the pleasure he felt earlier started to transform into pain. “I can’t-“

He bucked, trying to get her off, but she was too strong. She smiled sinfully down at him and kept sliding on his length, impaling herself and groaning. She smacked him again.

"It's too much!"

She moaned and slid back and forth, riding his spent, oversensitive and now painful member as hard as she could. "Hermione, stop it! It hurts!”

_Smack!_

She wouldn't stop, and his head swirled as his vision began to go black. She smacked him again.

She laughed. "Pay attention!"

"Please… I can't…"

His pained pleas to stop only made her orgasm stronger. She wailed as she came and her body contracted around him. She clutched at him, threw her head back, and laughed as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her. Her orgasm blasted through her body while his pleas fell silent. He had passed out.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione was sitting on the floor next to Draco. She looked down at him, slouched against the wall and unconscious. She was awful. She was horrible. Yes, he was horrible too, but what she did was ten times worse. She knew that it wasn't entirely her, that it was the effects of the _Lustfarae_. She knew that he brought it on himself by not staying away from her in the first place, and then holding her back from orgasm for so long.

But she still felt bad. Deep down, she knew that part of her wanted to do this to him, and she enjoyed it. She read that the _Lustfarae_ potion didn't create something new, but pulled from what already existed in her psyche. Part of her wanted to dominate and punish his Pureblood arse for past prejudices and general shitty behavior towards her when they were younger. Just like part of her wanted to stun Snape for being such a hellish teacher to her.

He looked so pitiful, and his face was mildly contorted in discomfort while he slept. Feeling suddenly overwhelmed with guilt, she leaned closely over him and healed the bruises she gave him on his face. As best as she could do without looking, she performed a gentle scouring spell between his legs. She couldn’t help it, and looked at his now clean penis lying flaccidly over his thigh, in a nest of blond curls. With rising trepidation, she noticed another bruise and a nasty scrape down his leg. Did she do that? She didn’t remember. With a growing dread, she tugged his trousers down even more to expose a new set of bruises, scrapes and cuts.

She gasped in horror. What in Godric’s name did she do to him? She didn’t even remember touching him in half the places he was bruised on his legs, and she certainly didn’t remember cutting him! Did the potion cause her to black out? Madam Pomfrey gave no indication that it would!

Putting her wartime training to good use, she methodically removed his clothing, and examined each limb: healing, soothing, cleaning. When she was sure she had finished, she pressed her wand into his abdominal muscles and performed a muscle relaxant charm that disseminated throughout his body. She could see the effects immediately on his naked limbs and sleeping face and felt somewhat better.

Being in healer mode removed all the sexuality from his complete nakedness, but she didn’t know how long that would last given the effects of the potion. Looking down at his torn and discarded clothing, she quickly repaired the items and dressed him. She looked down at herself. Her shirt was ripped and a few buttons were missing. She repaired it with a swish. Turning around, she realized she had no idea where she had flung her underwear. She smoothed out her shirt, buttoned all the buttons, and tied her hair back into a ponytail to try to hide her sex-tousled hair. She summoned her bag and stared down at Malfoy.

Prat that he was, she still couldn't leave him here like this. But she didn't want to have to deal with him right now either. She might want to have another go at him. And then what? Backing to the farthest area of the section from where she could still see him, she revived him with a swish of her wand. She waited until she saw him stir, and then made a mad dash towards the library exit.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

When Draco woke up, the first thing he felt was an incredible soreness between his legs. He tried to get up and gasped.

"Aah!"

He clutched himself between his legs. Between fucking Granger and the fight with Potter, his body was in real pain. It was his own damn fault of course; he pushed her too far. He lay there on the library floor in the fetal position. After a few minutes, the sudden pain began to subside. Gingerly, he unfurled himself and stood up, surprised that the only pain he had came from between his legs.

Looking down incredulously, he rotated his shoulders. He realized that not only did she repair his clothes and dress him, but she had completely healed all his bruises from the fight - and did a damn good job of it, too. With a start, he understood that she must feel _bad_ about what happened. She was under the mistaken impression that _she_ caused all those injuries instead of Potter.

Well this was an interesting development. She must feel terribly. People with guilt could be manipulated so easily and he had until five o'clock in the afternoon tomorrow to have another go at her. Aside from the bit at the end, this was by far the most amazing sex he'd ever had!

Images flashed of her with her arms clutching his, legs spread, breast exposed, sweat dripping down her body, her wet, swollen pussy, and her sobbing for him to grant her release.

His cock twitched at the thought.

"Ow!"

He clutched himself again.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione ran up the stairs to the girls' dorms in Gryffindor Tower, ignoring her friends calling after her and rushed to her room. She just needed to sleep. She added five drops of the Sleeping Draught to a glass of water, as Madam Pomfrey had instructed and drank the glass. She placed the bottle inside her drawer and closed it before whipping the drawer open again.

How could she be so stupid!

She feverishly read the contraceptive pamphlet looking over the various charms. Most were simple and performed before the act. There was one, which was a bit more complicated and could be performed up to several hours after relations. She breathed a sigh of relief. It hadn't been more than an hour or so since she had… well… violently raped him.

She gulped. Still seeing the large bruises on his ribs and abdomen. She was terrified that she couldn’t remember what she did to him, and didn’t know how to apologize or how to make it right. Is that what the potion brought out of her? Had she always wanted to hurt him that much?

Hermione practiced the charm to make sure she got the pronunciation and wand movements right before then casting it onto herself. She lay down on her pillow, closed her eyes to trap her forming tears in, and drifted off into what she hoped would be an uneventful and dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... who do you guys think it is now?  
> Sometimes, I can't tell how obvious I'm being and it's interesting to see who people think it is as the story progresses.  
> Hope you're all enjoying this!


	4. Wednesday morning

Hermione stayed in bed and listened to the rest of the girls get ready for classes. She had only dared to peep out and go down to the common room after everyone left. She intended on avoiding everyone, especially He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Thought-About In-Any-Way-Shape-or-Form, and just hoped to make it to five o'clock in the afternoon in one piece.

She sighed in frustration. Still nine hours to go. Her thoughts oscillated between guilt and horror at how violently she had raped Draco, to anger at who had done this to her. She brought out her notebook, along with the copies of thirteen potions and her scribbled theories out of her bag, and started to page through them all, humming to herself. One thing was certain, she was going to find the prick who did this to her and make them _very_ sorry.

An hour later, she heard the portrait swing open.

"Hermione?" Ginny called up from the common room. "I brought you some food so you wouldn't have to go downstairs if you don't want to. And I'm still up for running today if you are. I have a free period after lunch."

Hermione looked down from the railing. "Thanks, Ginny. You're a good friend." She continued on down the stairs. "I don't know how I can ever show my face to anyone after what I did. It was mortifying! Everyone in Potions saw me." She buried her face in her hands.

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Didn't you hear? There's nothing but respect for the girl who made Malfoy her bitch."

Hermione sputtered, thinking she heard wrong. "I... you... Pardon?"

Ginny smiled and walked over to her. "You've got Harry to thank for that. As soon as you ran out of the classroom, he cracked a joke about you taking Malfoy with a strap on.”

Hermione’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

“It's his reputation that suffered,” Ginny concluded. “Not yours."

"Oh,” she wasn’t sure how to digest that information. “I guess it's better than being thought of as just another conquest – in public, no less.”

“Hermione: 1, Patriarchy: 0,” Ginny quipped.

She hadn't thought of it from that angle before; she was so absorbed in her own humiliation which was compounded by the ever present societal slut-shaming. Turning it around like that would certainly explain why Malfoy came to her last night in the library, even though it didn't justify his behavior. He had wanted to reassert himself, but that was still no excuse for what she did to him. She thought that after getting a good night’s sleep she would remember exactly what she had done to cause all those injuries up and down his body, but no memories came.

“No,” Ginny laughed. "You were definitely not a conquest. In fact, I’m pretty sure half the school is scared of you.”

Hermione bit her lip, thinking of Malfoy's bruised body. Ginny didn’t know the half of it. She gave her a hug. "Tell Harry thanks for me, will you? The boys, they understand about me avoiding them?"

"I think they're just as embarrassed and… maybe a little bit afraid of you as well.” Ginny glanced at the portal door of the common room, hesitant to continue speaking.

“What?” Hermione prodded.

Ginny looked back at Hermione and said hesitantly, “They beat up Malfoy after class."

"What?" Hermione gasped with disapproval.

Ginny sighed. "Would you expect any less of them?"

"I guess I'd hoped for _more_.” Hermione furrowed her brow in thought. Malfoy came to her in the library after a fight with Harry and Ron? "What happened?"

"Malfoy threw a Stunner at Ron, and he and Harry did the rest the Muggle way. They left it at a draw."

"Two against one?" Hermione said, aghast. "That's not like them."

"I don't know if they intended for it to be that way, but that's the way it turned out. Malfoy's usually with Crabbe and Goyle. In any case, Harry doesn't think it was him."

"I don't either. It doesn't make sense," Hermione agreed. A flood of relief washed over her. She didn’t cause those bruises, scrapes and cuts all over his body. And she didn’t harbor a secret desire to be a violent rapist, just a… mildly violent one. She winced as she remembered Draco pleading for her to stop while she smacked him.

"So who do you think did it?" Ginny asked, eyeing her.

Hermione studied Ginny. Should she tell her what she found? She wanted to trust her friend. But she had seen Ginny after her run carrying something suspiciously large in her bag, and the timing of the hair potion application was uncanny.

"It could be one of the Ravenclaws. They would have slipped it to me at breakfast."

"Why? Jealous of your grades?"

"That's the only reason I can think of."

Ginny looked skeptical but said nothing.

Hermione continued on. "Maybe Blaise, but I can’t figure out what his motivation would be."

"Hmm. We'll figure out who it is. And when we do, they've got a Bat-Bogey Hex waiting for them." Ginny wiggled her eyebrows.

Hermione laughed as Ginny headed out the door and went back upstairs. She munched on her food and glanced at the papers spread out before her on her bedspread. Besides the commonality of the potions causing embarrassment to the user and the availability of antidotes, she saw that they were all relatively easy to make. That meant that the student was not necessarily proficient with potions if they were limiting themselves in that regard. Or maybe they _were_ good and figured simplicity was best to reduce the chances of getting caught. Complex plans engendered complications. Which would mean that they were rather intelligent if they had thought that through.

She sighed in frustration. She could go in circles of logic for hours.

And then she noticed something that she had skipped over previously. The _Lustfarae_ potion _smelled like lemons!_ She gasped. The bastard who did this was in the Prefect's bathroom that day she was locked out! It was a bloody Prefect! Well, that certainly narrowed down the list of suspects.

Oh.

Unless the Prefects gave out the bathroom password to a boyfriend or girlfriend. It was still a narrowed list.

And she had figured out how the potion could have been given to her at breakfast. It wouldn’t have been slipped into her coffee because she would have noticed the lemony scent. For the same reason, it wouldn't be in the hair potion. That scent would be difficult to disguise without harming the primary function of the potion. However, _Lustfarae_ was the only potion of the thirteen that would retain all of its properties if converted to powder form. The potion itself was white. In powder form, it would look like salt and lose its scent. How someone got the powder in the saltshaker, specifically in the saltshaker that _she_ was using, she hadn't figured out yet.

They would have had to be near the table that morning in order to do so. _That_ was probably the reason the _Lustfarae_ was chosen over the twelve others. She was developing a grudging respect for the intelligence of her nemesis.

Goldstein, Zabini and Padma. Aside from Ron, Harry, Ginny and Lavender, those three were at breakfast yesterday and had access to the Prefect’s bathroom. It had to be one of them. But she couldn’t think of a plausible motivation aside from jealousy at her grades. And what of Zabini? Maybe the perpetrator was working with someone else. But who? And why? It could be another Slytherin.

She needed a break from this, and her thoughts returned to Malfoy.

Despite her healing efforts, his ego and body were bruised. Although she didn’t cause all those bruises from Harry and Ron’s assault, she had hurt him. Would he be chastened and back off now? Or would he try and find her again? And if he did, what would he do with her this time? What would she do?

Dear Merlin, she _wanted_ him to find her. He was extremely attractive, the way he teased her made the sex… well, it was phenomenal. If it weren’t for the initial presumption that for some reason she wasn’t _supposed_ to be enjoying sex with Malfoy, was there a reason to deny herself? And why _shouldn’t_ she enjoy sex with him? So he was a manipulative jerk. Was that a reason for _her_ not to have fun?

What if… what if she went to him? It would still feel good. She doubted she’d ever have sex this exciting ever again. Presumably, he was interested on some level. He had took complete advantage of the situation and sought her out when he wasn't supposed to. Even though she knew she didn’t have much control over it, she felt a profound sense of shame at her attraction and an uneasiness as to how Harry, Ron and Ginny and her other Gryffindor friends would respond if they knew she had sought him out instead. 

She shivered at memory of him boxing her in last night between the library shelves, twisting her nipple while she was writhing on his fingers, pleading with him to let her come. She didn’t know that she had wanted to cede control like that until it was actually happening. But if being dominated and controlled by him was what she fantasized about, why did she end up smacking him around so much? Obviously, she wanted both. He did too, and had said as much.

 _"And since when do I do as I'm told? Unless_ you _tell me what to do."_

Maybe they both had a desire to be punished on some level. She felt a thrill when he commanded her with those piercing grey eyes. More images of him dominating her, thrusting into her, taking her, claiming her, came to her head and a familiar heat spread throughout her lower abdomen. She leaned back on her bed and hitched up her skirt to thoughts of him and sighed.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco sat in the Great Hall during lunch and glanced over at the Gryffindor Table.

No Hermione.

Of course, she'd be avoiding everyone today. And fat chance he'd find her in the library after yesterday. He wasn’t exactly sure what she’d done to him after he passed out. Not only were his injuries from his fight completely healed, but he felt as if he had undergone a full body massage. She hadn’t done anything to address the pain in his genital area but she probably hadn’t known how painful it was. Regardless, he slept better last night than he had in a long time.

He felt a pat on his back.

 _Fuck,_ here it comes. He'd managed to avoid everyone at breakfast by getting up early, but he couldn't do the same for lunch.

"So, Drakie," a voice said, as Draco cringed. If Blaise was using that name now, he was in for it. "We missed you at breakfast. Did Granger finally let you off your leash?"

Laughter filled the Slytherin table as students sat down to eat. Pansy just glared at him as she sat down. She had been so hostile lately. What was _her_ problem?

Draco whacked Blaise's arm off of his shoulder. "Fuck off, Zabini."

He stared straight ahead and stabbed a meatball on his plate.

"There’s no shame in wanting to be bossed around by the Gryffindor swot."

More laughter. Draco's jaw clenched.

"I said, shut it."

Blaise laughed. "Is that what Granger said before buggering you up the arse?"

The table roared with guffaws now.

Draco spun around and grabbed Blaise's throat collar. "That's pretty foul language coming from that mouth you kiss your whore of a mother with," he hissed at him menacingly.

Forks clattered to plates. The Slytherin table went silent.

Blaise's dark eyes narrowed dangerously. His voice lowered. "Take. It. Back."

Draco growled at him. "No."

Blaise lunged at Draco, and the two toppled over their chairs and onto the floor, wrestling each other. It was a poor move on Blaise's part. He was a far more formidable opponent with a wand. Draco landed a punch on Blaise, which would most certainly become a black eye, and elbowed him in the ribs, hearing a satisfying crack. Blaise howled.

Professors quickly rushed over before the fight could get even more out of hand. Snape restrained the two with a whisk of his wand and snarled at them.

"Our Head Boy and a Prefect fighting on school grounds. I think that calls for three weeks' worth of detentions… and a loss of your Hogsmeade privileges until after Christmas. One hundred points from Slytherin." His voice dripped poison as he eyed the two. "You make me ashamed to be the Head of this House. Both of you get down to the hospital wing. Now." He turned and walked away.

The two stared daggers at each other, breathing frantically. Blaise was clutching his side. Draco stalked out of the Great Hall, and not towards the hospital wing. Blaise would get over the fight eventually. He smirked at Blaise's predictable behavior. Then again, he would have done the same had someone called his mother a whore.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The Gryffindor table watched the scene with open mouths, as did everyone else. Ginny had just entered after leaving Hermione in Gryffindor tower with some lunch. She sat down next to Harry and looked back and forth at everyone in her group.

"What'd I miss?"

"Malfoy and Zabini fighting,” Harry said. “I don't think Malfoy's taking the hit to his reputation well. On the other hand, the next person will think twice before badgering him. Zabini didn't look too good."

Harry looked sideways and saw Ron staring intently at Malfoy stalking out of the Great Hall. Ron looked like he wanted nothing better than to restart the fight Harry had with Malfoy yesterday.

"You're not going to go after him, Ron. Are you?"

"Bugger off, Harry. You had your chance at him."

"Give it a rest," Ginny scolded him. "He's already gotten beaten on by Harry, Zabini and,” she chuckled, “by Hermione. Being violent isn’t going to solve anything. And we've already discussed that it wasn't him who did this to her anyway."

Ron seethed. "I. Don't. Fucking. Care.”

“Grow up!” Ginny retorted.

“And I still think he did it,” Ron continued. “You agree with me, don't you, Lav?"

Lavender was looking down at her food, not wanting to get involved in the conversation. "I don't know if he did or not," she answered quietly. "But I wish you would leave it alone. She's suffering, he's suffering, just let it go." She stared at her hands. "They say the antidote will be ready this evening anyway. It will all be over."

Ron kept staring at the entrance to the Great Hall where Malfoy had exited.

Ginny sighed and grumbled about toxic masculinity.

“What!” Ron snapped.

“Nothing!”

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco stalked through the hallways with his robes billowing behind him, glaring at anyone who dared to meet his eyes. People avoided him as news of his fight with Blaise spread.

 _Good,_ he thought. Back to people fearing him, just like he had planned. It was worth a few detentions. Hopefully with more class participation than he usually gave, he could earn back the House points.

Even though he was still feeling murderous from lunch, he was partly mollified in that his reputation was intact. Now he just had to find Granger and reassert himself with her. He only had a few more hours before the antidote was ready. He didn't mind skiving off his classes today for a chance at her again. What were a few more detentions in comparison to the fuck of a lifetime? He smirked at the thought of her sobbing and begging him last night. He learned his lesson, he’d have to get her off sooner. But he could still play with her. He felt the thrill of anticipation and a tiny bit of fear at the thought of finding her.

His cock remembered as well, and he readjusted himself in his pants. No soreness this time. Draco turned a corner and walked down another hallway. Where would she be? Not the library. She'd know better than that. And he didn't think that she'd venture going where others were liable to stop her and ask her questions. She'd prefer solitude. Would she stay up in Gryffindor Tower all day? If she did, it would be harder to get to her.

If she did, she'd have to stay cooped up in her room, avoiding the common room. She'd want freedom. Somewhere to take her mind off of – he smirked – him. He exited the large doors of the entrance of the castle and stepped outside into the sunlight.

"Granger, Granger, Granger… I bet you're out there."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione was halfway through her third lap around the grounds. She felt great, but her knees were sore and she still had three hours to go. She doubted that she could run continuously for three hours, but she could try! If she could run for at least another hour, she'd be too winded and sore to think about anything else before five o'clock arrived.

Since there was no Quidditch practice at this time of day, maybe she could go and use some of the strengthening equipment by the pitch when she finished her run. That would take up time.

Ginny had agreed to leave her some food from lunch in her room so that she could eat when everyone was be in class. Maybe she could push her body to exhaustion, eat like a pig, and then take a Sleeping Draught for the rest of the day.

Would five o'clock never come?

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco had been wandering around outside aimlessly for the past two hours with no sign of seeing her. He'd already checked the spots that students congregated at on nice days. On the off chance that she actually would want company, he headed down to Hagrid's hut and peeked inside.

There was the oaf, but no Granger.

Maybe he was wrong, and she wasn't outside at all. Perhaps she had opted to seclude herself in her dorm. He was about to head back to the castle when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye at the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

Instinctively, he ducked back behind the hut to hide his body and peered around the corner. Was that Granger running? He appraised her. And _what_ was she wearing? That tight tank top and shorts didn't leave much to the imagination. He felt himself harden again as he imagined himself peeling those tight layers off her sweaty body.

How long would she be running for? She looked like she had been at it for quite some time. That certainly explained her toned body. He hadn't seen that surprise coming. Usually only female Quidditch players looked and felt like she did. He licked his lips at the thought of feeling her again.

He easily matched her pace and kept a good distance jogging behind her. Should he go after her now? Or wait until she was done with her run? He was afraid he'd lose track of her if he didn't follow. After fifteen minutes, he noticed a pile of clothing off to the side and stopped. It was hers. She'd finish here at some point.

He looked around. The Quidditch pitch was pretty close. She'd have to cross it to get back to the castle. He could sit atop the stands and keep a lookout for her without being seen. Maybe he could do some exercises on the stands while waiting. Who knew how long she would run for?

He jogged back up to the locker room to change into his shorts.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione's body burned all over. She had just finished the last of her strengthening exercises on the Quidditch pitch. She wouldn't be able to move tomorrow, she was sure of that. This was definitely a good idea. She knew that after eating, she'd have no trouble sleeping until five o'clock. She bent over with her hands on her knees, her head down, and breathed in and out slowly.

She was completely spent. She had never pushed herself so hard. And she would never do so again! Aside from the pain in her knees, she had shin splints. Looking over at the Quidditch locker room, she remembered that there were plenty of salves and potions for the aches and pains associated with strenuous exercise. No one would be there any time soon. The practices usually started later in the evening, not for another couple of hours. She would get showered and changed there.

She bent over to pick up her clothes, groaned at the pain, and started to walk up to the girls' locker room. Merlin, she was limping! Never, ever would she do this again! It was too much!

She walked inside and went directly to the medicine cabinet. After looking over the various salts, salves, and potions, she brought out a salve for muscle and joint pain. Then, she plopped herself down on the floor, rubbed the mint smelling muscle salve all over her body and the more foul smelling joint salve over her knees.

Within minutes, she could feel the pain disappearing. She sighed in contentment, leaned back against the wall, and closed her eyes. Just a few more minutes and she could wash it all off in a hot shower.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco was outside, circling the girls' locker room. There were two exits. He didn't want her to notice someone coming in and run out the other side. He could cast a Silencing Charm to mask the noise, but opening the door was usually accompanied with a rush of air from the outside. He wasn't sure how he could mask that effectively. And that was assuming that she wasn't in a position where she could see the door opening. He didn't know where she was in the locker room.

Suddenly, he heard a rush of water as the shower was turned on. He smiled in victory. All of his problems were solved, _and_ he'd get to see her in the shower. Draco became aroused at the thought. He jogged to the other entrance that was furthest from the showers, and cast a Disillusionment Charm and a Silencing Charm on himself before creeping inside.

He slowly made his way around the rows of lockers and benches, turning the last row to see a very wet and very naked Hermione Granger soaping herself. He was far enough away, and there was enough steam and scents from the soap she was using that she wouldn't be able to smell him. He was fairly sure of that.

He was as hard as a rock.

What the hell, she couldn't hear him, she couldn't see him, and he was certain he'd be ready to go in another five minutes, especially with her naked in front of him. He put his arm on the edge of the locker, leaned his head on his forearm, and stared at her showering. She was completely oblivious to his presence. He reached down into his shorts and slowly stroked himself, squeezing his head as some pre-cum came out.

Her eyes were closed. She was shampooing her hair. The water and suds were cascading down from her head, streaming down her body. After finishing with her hair, she ran soapy hands over her legs, her breasts, and between her legs, rinsing out the nest of curls there.

Draco leaned forward, balancing his weight on the locker and stroked himself. His body trembled and he let out a small grunt. It didn’t take long. He tensed as his orgasm slowly built up and released. He held back a moan and shuddered as he pumped the last of his seed out. After tucking himself back in his shorts, he used a _Scourgify_ on himself and Summoned her wand.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione shut off the faucet and toweled herself dry. The pain was gone, but she was still exhausted. What a day! What a workout! She walked back to her bag and proceeded to comb her hair out in front of the mirror. Ginny was right; life with wavy hair was so much easier. After conditioning her hair, she had hardly any tangles at all. She parted her hair down the middle and turned to get her wand for a quick hair dry.

 _That's strange_ , she thought, furrowing her brows. She could have sworn that she had put her wand on top of her clothes. Was it in her bag? She started rifling through her bag when a strong smell of sweat and masculinity wafted through the air. Desire shot through her.

He was here.

He took her wand.

_Shit!_

She tensed. She hated him. She wanted him. She had to get out of here. She wanted to stay. 

_Concentrate!_ she told herself. _He doesn't know that you know._

She kept her towel wrapped around her and pretended to check her class notes about something. She rifled through parchments while her mind raced furiously.

He would be in here with a Disillusionment Charm. The perv had watched her shower, a thought which only served to excite her more. She had to determine the tell-tale blurriness of the charm without letting him know that she had noticed.

Could she grab her clothes and run? Without her wand? No, he'd stop her easily. She didn't have a chance without it. The only thing she could do was pinpoint his location, take him by surprise, get her wand back, throw a Stunner at the bastard, and hope that several rounds of masturbation would take care of her desire.

Easier said than done.

She let out a breath of air.

_Think! Think! Think!_

How much time did she have before he'd accost her? Then, she got an idea.

Giving a whimper and faking more pain in her leg, she limped over to the medicine cabinet. She took out a few salves and salts which could be added to water. Next, she went back to the sink took what she really wanted, the bucket. Still wrapped in a towel, she pretended to read the instructions to the healing salts while filling the bucket with – she smiled – freezing cold water.

And she listened.

And she smelled.

He was close. How close?

She pretended to check her appearance in the mirror while scanning the reflection for blurry areas. She thought she could see a blurry blob roughly six meters away, moving slowly towards her. Yes, it was definitely him.

Just a little bit more… just a little bit more… She slowly breathed in. He must have been sweating. Merlin! He smelled good.

She turned off the faucet and gave another groan of imagined pain, as she hoisted the bucket out of the sink. Then, she turned, looking directly at the blur and hurled the freezing water at it.

"Gaaaaaaah!" Draco yelled, reappearing sopping wet as the Disillusionment Charm faded. Hermione sucked in a breath. He was only wearing his training shorts! She couldn’t help getting an eyeful of water dripping from his bare chest and abs.

Seeing her wand sticking out of his pocket brought her back to her senses. Hoping the element of surprise would even out the disadvantage that she had in size and strength, she plowed into him shoulder first, reaching for her wand.

"Ooof!" she grunted, as her shoulder met solid muscle.

He didn't budge. Was she really that small? She struggled to get her wand out of his pocket when his cold muscled arm wrapped around her torso, pinning her arms to her sides. His other hand clamped down on her wrist before she could even get a grip on her wand. He forcefully extracted her hand from his pocket.

"That's the wrong wand to be fondling, Granger."

She flushed and struggled as he kept her pinned to his body with one arm. She tried to escape from his grip but calmed down after realizing that overzealous thrashing would end up with her towel on the floor. She'd be completely naked and pressed up against him. Heat flared up inside her at thought and she could feel wetness between her legs from being pressed up against his bare arms and chest. She cursed him for having this effect on her.

"Language, Granger," he chided her; then he lowered his voice. "I haven't even started with you yet."

She glared up at him. Seeing one last chance for freedom, she leaned over, bit his forearm, and kicked him hard in the shin with her heel.

"Ouch! Bugger!"

His hold on her slackened, but just as she struggled free to grab her wand, she heard what would be her undoing.

" _Incarcerous_!"

Ropes tied her hands behind her back and wound around her ankles. Cursing him again, she hopped about ridiculously for a bit, trying to extract herself. Draco watched her, amused, while the water dripped off of his body. Finally, she fell into a seated position on the bench. Her chest heaved from the exertion and her breasts were forced outwards from having her hands tied behind her. Draco watched Hermione seethe with mutinous anger, glaring at him with both rage and lust in her hazel eyes. He leered at her towel-clad body with obvious desire.

"Just you wait, you _fucking_ git," she spat at him. "You want another round with me? I am going to punish you horribly and I am _not_ going to feel bad for _anything_ that I do to you. You fucking deserve it."

"You already had your fun with me," he gave her a sensual smile. "Now I get to punish you."

With a swish of his wand, a table at the far end of the locker room flew through the air and skidded to halt in front of the full-length mirror next to the sinks. She eyed him warily. What was he doing? He walked over to the table and Transfigured the hard top with sharp corners to a material that was softer and more yielding. He turned around mischievously.

"It'll make you more comfortable."

She shook her head. "Oh no! Absolutely not! If you think you can—"

" _Accio_ Granger!"

Her body shot up from the bench and she flew bodily towards him. He caught her in one arm, spun her around, and faced her towards the mirror. Hermione looked at herself, held captive by Malfoy, and gave him a murderous glare.

"I don't think I can." He tore off her towel in one motion, eyed her exposed body, and spoke directly to her ear. "I know I can."

She ground her teeth as his hot breath caused the hair on her neck to stand on end. She was completely naked before him and his eyes unabashedly raked her body up and down. She tried to contort herself in an attempt to cover up but was unable due to the bindings. He smirked and pulled back on her arms, making her breasts jut out even more. Unable to help herself, she whimpered under his gaze.

"But first, some payback for that stunt you pulled with the water. I have to say, Granger, that was pretty impressive."

He let go of her and backed up with a grin. Her eyes widened in fear.

" _Aguamenti Frio!_ "

She shrieked as a freezing cold stream of water rained down on her head and naked body from his wand. She sputtered as the stream subsided.

"Fucking prick!"

Goosebumps spread all over her skin and her nipples painfully hardened. He grabbed her bound arms and pulled her back flush against his chest. She could feel his erection through his wet shorts against her bare bottom. She snarled at him in the mirror. He rocked his pelvis slightly into her rear, so that the length of him went up and down her buttocks.

"What wicked things do you think I'm going to do to you next?"

Once again, she tried, but couldn't stop the involuntary whimper from leaving her lips. He grinned down at her reflection.

"Hmm? We've got to even the score from yesterday."

"Do you have a deathwish, Malfoy?” she snapped. “I’ll hurt you! And… and isn't what you've done to me enough? Can't you just—"

He placed the palm of his hand between her shoulder blades and forcefully guided her reluctant body to lie down on the table. The softened table top was cool against her abdomen and breasts and he pressed down on her back. Her arse was angled up in the air, vulnerably exposed to him. He leaned into her, pressing his length into her bottom again. She was so turned on she couldn’t stand it. He gave her a feral smile in the mirror as she looked up from her prone position.

 _Oh god_ _!_ He was going to take her there? He wouldn't do that, would he? _Fuck!_ She had to get herself out of this.

She looked up at him pleadingly. "Draco, please, can't we just," she gulped, "talk about this?"

He started laughing. Hard. His laughter echoed in the locker room and then he bent over and started choking.

 _I hope he chokes to death!_ she thought as she tried to raise herself.

It was difficult to do so with stomach muscles alone after having done so many sit-ups earlier. Straining to get herself into a less vulnerable standing position, she grunted. Just as soon as she was upright, Draco wiped his eyes, grabbed her wrists, still bound behind her back, and pushed her down more forcefully this time.

"Ooomph!"

"Down, Granger," he said, still chuckling.

She growled at him. Oh, he was going to pay for this. He didn't move his hand from her back. She couldn't get up and her arse was in the air. She could see him leering at it in the mirror. She was at his complete mercy. She had absolutely no control. She hated it. She hated him. And yet, she loved it. She loved what he was doing to her. And he knew it. She didn’t know how he knew exactly what to do with her but she loved it. She was hot, sopping wet and itching to be filled. Draco's grey eyes pierced her hazel ones in the mirror. He released the bonds on her legs and kicked her feet apart with his own. She tried to clamp her legs back together but wasn't strong enough. Before she could do anything with the freedom of her lower limbs, he muttered a Sticking Spell between her feet and the floor. He held her down with one palm on her upper back and began to stroke the skin of her butt with his other.

She shut her eyes.

_Oh God… Oh God…what was he going to do?_

"Open your eyes, Granger."

She kept them shut tight.

SMACK!

"Aaah!" Her eyes popped open and her body lurched forward from the force of his blow. Her arse stung, but, oh, it felt good!

"Look at me," he commanded with a low voice.

She looked up at him through the mirror. His eyes were so intently locked on hers as he continued to caress her buttocks with one of his hands, sending shivers through her body. Draco pushed down on her back with his hand and pressed himself against her. She looked up at him with abject fear. He wouldn't bugger her there, would he? He smirked down at her, looking positively evil.

_Merlin!_

"No, Draco! Please don't!"

Slowly but deliberately, Draco put his finger in his mouth with his other hand. Her lips parted, as she watched him suck on his finger. He brought his finger down to her crack and slowly, ever so slowly, followed the line down to her hole. Her eyes widened.

"What… What are you doing?"

The trail of wetness left by his finger evaporated and she shuddered as he got closer… and closer….

“Wait, but-“

"It's your punishment, Granger,” he said and gave her a wicked smile. “Don't worry, you'll like it."

"No, I—"

"Look at me!"

He stared into her eyes intently, as his finger began to circle her anus. It was horrifying. She sucked in a breath as his finger bit by bit, probed her entrance. His gaze held hers and his finger paused in the entryway. She held her breath in anticipation. His lips quirked and slowly, slowly, he inserted his finger inside her hole. She gasped. It felt foreign. It felt dirty. _She_ felt dirty. She felt violated. Violated by his finger. Violated by his grey eyes that wouldn't stop watching her. Violated by having to witness herself being humiliated by him by watching herself in the mirror. And she _loved_ it. She could feel even more moisture dripping out of her.

He wouldn't stop staring at her with that penetrating gaze of his. He _knew_. He fucking _knew_ she loved it. A former Death Eater spanking and fucking Potter’s Mudblood’s asshole with his finger. 

As if reading her thoughts, he raised his eyebrows. "What’s wrong? You didn’t expect to like it?” his voice lowered dangerously. “ _Mudblood._ ”

He was getting off on the same power dynamic. She sucked in a slow, shaky breath as he inserted his finger a bit further and pulled it out. "Stop it, Malfoy."

He continued to penetrate her hole, slowly inserting his finger all the way in, and then all the way out. She gasped and bit her lip. She wanted him inside her. It was humiliating. If Harry, Ron or Ginny could see this, what would they think? She was the rational one. She convinced them all to come back and sit for their NEWTs. She constantly hounded them about studying. And here she was with her arse in the air and Draco’s finger inside of her, hoping he wouldn’t start pegging her. But maybe hoping he would? They’d think she was wrong in the head, they’d think she was sick, they’d think she was a…

"Does it make you feel like a whore?" He leaned in towards her ear and growled. "A _Mudblood whore?_ "

She hissed. "I hate you!” she squirmed as he slowly inserted and extracted his finger. “Oh, Merlin…" she groaned. While squirming, she realized that she could feel friction between her clit and the transfigured table as well. A wave of pleasure shot through her from the combination. She didn't want to feel pleasure from what he was doing to her, but she couldn't help it. She felt even more ashamed and blushed.

"You _like_ being called a Mudblood whore, don't you?” he taunted her. “You're even naughtier than I thought."

"Stop…" she moaned. Although, by now it was obvious that anything she said was a plea for more. His penetration of her anus continued at the same, slow, tortuous pace and her arousal grew and grew with each slick movement, with each rub of her clit on the table.

"Say that you're a Mudblood whore,” he whispered hotly into her ear. “You’re just a dirty," His finger entered. “-filthy,” His finger slid out. “Mudblood whore.” His finger slid in again and she whimpered in pleasure. “Say it," he hissed.

"Fuck. You."

THWACK!

"Aaah!" she yelped as her body lurched forward again. Draco watched her arse redden and then brought his eyes back to hers.

"Slut!"

"No!"

SMACK!

THWACK!

SMACK!

Her body rocked back and forth and her buttocks stung. All the while his finger kept a steady pace and was penetrating her fully, going all the way up her passageway. She could feel wetness dripping out of her and pooling on the table underneath her.

"Fuck! Ugh! Stop it! Aaah!"

She loved it. She loved the way he looked at her with his grey eyes, she loved the feel of his hands as he held her in place and spanked her. She loved the names he called her. It was dirty. He was degrading her. Debasing her. Making her filthy.

And she was getting off on it.

Her friends would think she was a slut.

"Dirty slag!"

SMACK!

_Oh please yes._

Slide in; slide out.

THWACK!

Slide in; slide out.

"Aaaah! Stop!" she moaned.

Her cheeks were in pain.

Draco mercilessly spanked her buttocks, right and left, top and bottom. At the same time, he inserted his finger all the way in and out of her hole. The friction against the table overwhelmed her and Hermione yelped and cried out until she felt a sudden warmth spread from her core and out through her body. Before she realized what had happened, she was yelling his name and crying for more.

"Draco! Don't stop! Don't stop! Pleeeeease! Ughhhhh!"

He sped up the frequency of his violations of her anus and the spanking.

TWHACK! THWACK! THWACK!

Slide in; slide out.

“Whore!” he hissed.

She came violently and bucked up. She wailed uncontrollably, as the ecstasy of her orgasm overtook her. Her body convulsed and rocked back and forth from his continued beatings. He stroked the cheeks of her ass as the last of her orgasm subsided. As her contractions faded off, the penetrations of his finger became less frequent, and less forceful, until they too slowly faded to a stop.

Hermione was spent. Her breathing slowed down bit by bit. Her lips were parted. She didn't know if she could move. Her arse hurt like hell. The air around it made her skin sting. Even so, it was incredible. _He_ was incredible. She eyed Draco warily behind her but not through the mirror. He was leaning over her, panting from exertion himself. He had one palm on the table and placed the other gently on her left butt cheek. It hurt but she quivered and sighed under his touch. His grey eyes were dark with desire. She hadn't realized that she had shut her eyes during her orgasm. He was unabashedly watching her. Just watching her. She was too spent to feel embarrassed under his scrutiny.

She had never felt so sated, so absolutely fantastic in her life. Unable to think, she said the first thing that came to her mind. "How did you know?"

Her ecstatic state must have shown on her face. He cracked a knowing half-smile. The cocky arse. "Want more?"

She smiled back at him. He understood. He had admitted to getting turned on by being smacked around by her. She called him a little shit and he loved it.

"Maybe."

He gave her that evil smile again. "Say that you're my Mudblood whore."

Her defenses immediately came back up. "No fucking way, Malfoy! There is no way that I'm—"

Draco pulled her up by the shoulders so that her back was flush against his chest. He pulled back on her tied hands with one hand, jutting her chest outward, and splayed the other hand across her throat, turning her head back to his.

"Shut up and give in already," he growled while lowering his face to hers and invading her mouth with his tongue.

The warmth of his body on her back thrilled her. His hand on her throat with his fingers splayed to her cheek forced her head to turn. His tongue was inside her mouth, massaging her tongue, and she was instantly filled with desire again. Her heart raced. The two of them were slippery, skin on skin, hot and sweaty. The feel of him against her sent jolts of desire through her body and down between her legs.

As they continued to kiss, she felt his hand lower from her throat down to her breasts. She sighed and gasped into his mouth, as his fingers circled her nipples. And then came the exquisite pain like he had done in the library. He pinched her there, slowly, and then released her. He continued to pinch and twist, back and forth. She moaned into his mouth and pushed her breasts out for him to pinch her more.

His other hand released her bound hands and came up to grip her hair. He pulled her mouth away from his and they gasped for air. He went right back down and attacked her exposed throat, kissing, sucking, biting, licking. She moaned and whimpered with him pulling painfully on her hair, twisting and pulling on her nipples, biting and sucking on her neck. Not letting her move her head. Between the pinching and twisting of her nipples, and the abuse from his mouth to her neck, she started to work towards her release again by rubbing her clit against the soft material of the transfigured table.

Draco wouldn't let her this time. He unstuck her feet and lifted her into a kneeling position on the table with her knees spread wide apart. She tried to squirm and rub her clit but could only hit air from that angle. With her hands constrained behind her, she couldn't even touch herself.

He stared at her in the mirror from behind the shoulder that he was nipping and smirked again, taking in her naked, sweaty body, breasts pushed out, legs spread, pussy dripping… for him.

She whimpered. "Draco, I'll hurt you again if you make me wait too long."

"Then beg sooner… Mudblood whore," he said, as his eyes glinted at hers, challenging her to respond. He knew as well as she did that calling her dirty names turned her on.

The hand holding her hair lowered to her stomach and pressed her back into him, into his erection, so that she was balanced on the edge of the table. At this angle, she had to rely on him to keep her propped up so she wouldn't fall.

"Say it, Granger," he whispered huskily. "Say you're my whore."

He twisted her nipples painfully. She moaned and squirmed. She felt her precarious position on the table, her weight supported by him, and was unable to shift her position. She bit her lip and shook her head. She couldn't do it. Her pride wouldn't let her. She felt him shake off his shorts and press his naked length against her backside. He brought her even more over the edge of the table, so that her rear had no support at all. She would fall! And then she felt him lower himself, probing her entrance from underneath with his member. He smirked at her in the mirror.

"Is this what you want now?"

She groaned in frustration. "Gods, yes! Come on, Malfoy!"

"Only whores need to be filled with cock. Do you need to be filled with my cock?"

She growled at him and he smirked. "Fuck you! Yes, I need your cock!"

He continued to tease her entrance, pushing in ever so slightly and exiting before anything more than his head entered.

"Tell me you're my whore."

"Go to hell, Malfoy! Just do it! You want it as bad as I do!"

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

He moved his hand from her nipples down to her clitoris and began to circle it slowly, as he had done in the library last night. She gasped and threw her head back.

"Merlin! Do it already! Make me come!"

"Tell me," he tauntingly whispered in her ear, continuing to probe her entrance and circle her clit.

"Draco, please!"

"Tell me!" he commanded, his hot breath coated her ear and throat.

"No!" she sobbed. God _damn_ him! His member pushed in slightly more and his finger continued to circle.

"Mudblood whore!" he growled at her.

"No!"

He bit into her shoulder, bruising her.

"Aaaaah!"

"Say it!" he hissed, as he glared at her from over her shoulder in the mirror.

She gasped and bucked as his finger swiped her clit.

"No!" she yelled.

She turned to look directly into his grey eyes over her shoulder, pleading. Didn't he understand? She couldn't give in like this. She couldn't! It was one thing for him to call her that, quite another for her to say it. Tears were already forming from frustration and want. She didn't want to hurt him like before, but she didn't want to give in either. Why did he need her to say it so badly?

And then, she understood how to give in on her own terms.

"Tell me you're my bitch," she whispered to him.

He stared at her, taken aback. Then slowly, a wide grin spread across his face.

"I'm your bitch."

Her lips parted, half in shock, and then she smiled back with a gleam in her eye and said, "I'm your Mudblood whore.” Her voice lowered seductively. “And I need your cock.”

He exhaled and she heard a low rumble in his chest as he thrust up and into her. They gasped at the shared warmth, at the closeness, and at the pleasure of completely losing themselves in sensation. Neither one of them noticed when Hermione's hands had become unbound. She clutched at his neck from behind, as he pounded into her from underneath, rubbing her clit, and massaging her breasts. His pelvis rocked into her, lifting her body with each thrust.

They devoured each other's mouths and each thrust of his raised her into the air. Their naked, sweaty bodies slipped and writhed and clutched until they felt their pleasure come to a peak.

She reached above and behind her, grabbing onto his neck and shoulders, and his hair. He painfully gripped her breast and hip. His fingers dug into her as their orgasms rippled through their bodies. His lips parted and she stared into his eyes in the mirror. He felt her contract around him, squeezing every last drop of seed that he pumped into her and he spasmed.

He shivered, she shuddered, and they clutched onto each other. Slowly, slowly, they floated down from their heights, amazed after having watched one another come so hard. Smiling and sated, Draco wrapped his arms around her and just held her, looking at her in the mirror. She lowered her arms from around his neck and circled his arms. They remained unmoving for several minutes while the only sounds in the locker room came from their breathing.

He turned her around so that she was sitting on the table, facing him. Leaning forward slightly, he kissed her forehead. Startled, she looked up and gave him a small smile at the surprisingly tender gesture of this post-coital Draco Malfoy. The dynamic had just changed between them. They had a shared sexual deviance and had moved past the need for pretense and posturing. They both sensed a new, vulnerable, openness between them. Neither one of them knew exactly what it meant; but so far, neither had a problem with it.

Hermione found it strangely thrilling.

"Can I have my wand?" she asked.

He bent over, pulled it out of his forgotten shorts on the floor, and gently placed it in her hand. She performed the Contraceptive Charm on herself. She sighed, closed her eyes for a minute, opened them, and looked up at him. He was still openly staring at her. Slowly, he reached up and brushed his thumb over her mouth. He gave her a half-smile as she peered up at him.

“What are you thinking?” she asked him.

He bit his bottom lip and she watched his teeth press lightly into the flesh. Her eyes flicked up to his and saw he was studying her, weighing the consequences of his answer.

“You’re different from what I thought I knew. Different and... still the same. I’m hoping,” he took a deep breath and looked into her eyes, “that you’ll still want me after the antidote. Even though I took advantage of your situation.”

She knew that once she took the antidote, she would still want him. She knows what it is to ravage him and be ravaged by him. There is no “un-knowing” of sex with Draco Malfoy and now that she knew, she wanted more. But he knew that already. Her being attracted to him or wanting to have sex with him wasn’t what he was referring to.

He was referring to the fact that sex with him still felt wrong. That was why some of the psychological aspects were so tantalizing in the first place – and he experienced that as well but from a different angle. She still felt she was betraying her friends. Betraying her morals. Betraying her reputation. He was trouble. She knew that. He was manipulative. Wrong. Corrupting. Forbidden. Everything she shouldn’t want.

However.

If it felt good and she wasn’t hurting anyone, was there anything inherently wrong with her enjoying what he had to offer? Even if he was manipulative enough to take advantage of the situation? Even if he did do things to her when she had asked him, begged him, not to? Did she have to deny herself pleasure for some ideal that others expected her to uphold? And why did she have to live up to that ideal in the first place? It was just sex…. wasn’t it?

“Perhaps,” she answered with her voice in a lilt. He cradled her chin affectionately. She ran her hand through his hair and watched him study her facial expressions, trying to discern what she was thinking but not daring to ask.

“Zabini, Goldstein and Padma,” she blurted out, breaking their trance.

His brows furrowed in confusion. "I… er… Pardon?"

Hermione explained her research in the library, how she had smelled lemons coming from the Prefect's bathroom, discussing the Ancient Runes project at breakfast yesterday, and the saltshaker.

“You’ve figured out nearly everything,” he sounded impressed, but she heard a hint of doubt in his voice.

“But?” she prompted him.

“None of them have any motivation.” Draco crossed his arms, enjoying finding the holes in her logic. “Jealous of your grades? Lame, Granger.”

She scoffed. “Zabini?” He was the wild card. She really didn’t know him well enough. She hoped Draco would have more insight.

Draco shook his head. “He noticed that you were affected before I did and I know he’s attracted to you." He thought a bit more, still peering into her eyes, studying her face. She felt the same. Looking at him this closely, this intimately was new and exciting.

"I can’t fathom why he would put you in that position with anyone, let alone me,” he continued while lightly stroked her upper arms with his knuckles and she shivered at his touch. “Who else was at the breakfast table that morning?”

She shook her head furiously. “No.”

Draco looked raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Well?”

She blushed. “Harry, Ron, Ginny and Lavender.”

“Access to the Prefect’s bathroom?”

Likely all of them. He already knew that.

“What’s the motivation?” When she didn’t answer right away, he grinned wickedly and she narrowed her eyes. He was enjoying this a little bit too much.

She bit her cheek in thought. Although she and Malfoy had become closer and more intimate not just through the act of sex, but through their similar sexual proclivities, this was more personal than she was willing to share at this point. He sensed her hesitancy and didn’t push her.

“Don’t worry, Granger. I’m not interested in Gryffindor gossip. However, something you may want to consider.”

“What would that be?”

“Despite fantasizing about me naked all day,” she rolled her eyes and he smirked, “You’ve managed to figure out what was done, where it was done and how it was done. But you’ve completely disregarded four suspects because of personal bias; despite knowing what the motivation would be.”

_Ron._

If it was any of them, it would be connected to her dumping Ron. It was the only real source of conflict between her and her friends.

“Do you think…,” she pursed her lips and shivered again as his knuckles continued in their delicate path up and down her arms. “…that this was the intended consequence of the potion? What if there was a mistake?”

His eyes widened in curiosity. “Now _that’s_ an interesting question.”

“Whoever did this to me… wanted to humiliate me. Cause me to be embarrassed publicly. But from what Ginny told me, that’s not what happened.”

“Not in the least. You’re a fucking legend among the Slytherins,” his smile turned devilish. “I heard Daphne threatening to sic you on some fourth years that were too noisy in the dorms earlier.”

“So the question becomes: ‘who wants to humiliate me?’ instead of ‘who wants me to shag Malfoy senseless?’”

“ _I_ want you to shag Malfoy senseless.”

Hermione returned his smile and sniffed. Damn him and his smell.

"Do I stink?" Draco asked, looking down at himself.

"Lots," she answered, not wanting to admit that him in his sweaty masculine glory, and just after sex, was making her hornier by the minute.

Draco announced, "I'm taking a shower; you're welcome to join me."

"No, thanks. I'll wait."

“You sure?”

He ran a finger from her cheek down to her neck, between her breasts, circling her nipple, down to her belly button, and even lower, tickling the area around her curls. Her breath hitched. Before he could reach her folds, he removed his hand and sauntered off towards the showers, whistling.

 _Merlin's balls!_ she thought.

"You can go so soon again?" she asked, surprised, and followed him in.

"I _am_ an eighteen-year-old male," he answered cockily. "I can go a third time."

"Wait, what do you mean a _third_ time?"

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The two exited the locker room with smiles on their faces in the afterglow. They had discovered some shared commonalities in each other, and things had changed. As they walked back to the castle, their hands occasionally brushed, like a couple on a first date who didn't know if one liked the other. She felt a tingling each time her fingers touched his, unconnected with the unbridled lust. And was certain he felt the same.

Her eyes widened suddenly. "Did you know I would like being dominated because you liked _me_ controlling _you_?"

“I had a hunch,” he flashed a grin at her. “Your friends rely on you for everything from homework to Horcrux hunting and you're Head Girl. Doesn’t it feel liberating to give up control to someone else?”

_Yes._

"So, it wasn't just revenge from when I… er… well…" her voice tapered off.

"Beat me into submission?” she blushed at his choice of words. However, they were accurate. “Don't kid yourself, Granger. Much as I enjoy getting smacked around by you, I still have my pride. In fact, it makes dominating you that much more arousing. Next time it'll be your choice."

She lifted an eyebrow. "You're assuming that we'll do this again after I get the antidote?"

He closed in on her and his voice lowered. "Do you want me to make you beg again?"

She sucked in a breath, as her heart raced. She absolutely _did_.

He smirked.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up, we finally find out who did it!


	5. Wednesday evening

Hermione slept for the rest of the day, completely oblivious to those entering and exiting the dorms. She was exhausted from all of the physical activity. And there had been a LOT of physical activity. She had fond memories of the few times she had sex with Ron during the war. Stolen moments that were at the same time awkward yet desperate, passionate yet shy, fumbling yet sweet.

What she experienced with Draco was completely different. He must have spent at least 30 minutes on the shower floor eating her out as the hot water pounded down on them. She had lost count of her orgasms. She knew oral sex was supposed to be pleasurable and she’d certainly enjoyed it when she forced Malfoy to perform it on her in the library, but the way his tongue worshipped her body as she writhed on the ground brought a deviance to the act she never thought was possible. The man was so devoted to her pleasure he hadn’t noticed how chafed and bruised his elbows were from the tiles on the floor. And so she healed him afterwards, again. It was the least she could do.

Her wand alarm went off at five o'clock in the evening, and she raced down to the hospital wing, eager to be in complete control of her faculties once again. She wanted to continue having sex with Draco, but as herself, making conscious choices.

And without hurting him.

Unless he wanted her too.

"Madam Pomfrey!" she called out impatiently. "Madam Pomfrey!"

"Yes, yes, Miss Granger. I have your antidote. Everything is ready." Madam Pomfrey came around the corner holding a vial. "Now just take—"

Hermione grabbed the vial, uncorked it, and chugged down the contents. She wiped her mouth off on her sleeve afterwards.

Madam Pomfrey looked at her with amusement.

"Sorry, Madam Pomfrey, but it's been a rough two days."

"I'm sure it has," she said with a knowing smile. "As I was about to say, the effects will be immediate and you should have no further issues requiring…relief. At least, none that are artificially induced."

_Eeeeek!_

The vial dropped from Hermione's hand and shattered on the floor. She ran out of the room.

What was with Madam Pomfrey and masturbation?

The Medi-witch chuckled to herself and went back to attending her sick patients after repairing the vial.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione entered the Great Hall and headed over to the Gryffindor table, winking at Draco along the way. He flashed her a quick smile, much to Pansy's chagrin. She sat down next to her friends and began to spoon food on her plate, rivaling Ron's stockpile. After everything that happened today, she was ravenous.

Harry and Ron looked over at her warily.

"Uh…" Harry, the king of eloquence in uncomfortable situations, began.

"Everything's taken care of. I'm back to normal," she assured him while heaping another spoonful on her plate.

Ron and Harry each let out loud sighs of relief.

Hermione began to shovel food into her mouth in a way that was very uncharacteristic of her. Ginny, Lavender, and Harry stared. Ron didn't notice, as he was busy shoveling food into his mouth at the same pace.

Hermione looked up and asked with a mouth full of food, "What?" She swallowed. "I did a lot of running today."

They shrugged and went back to eating.

"So," Harry began. "I still think we should consider Zabini, Parkinson, and maybe Nott, even though Malfoy says they wouldn't do it. You never know what's going on between the Slytherins. Especially after that fight this morning."

Hermione snuck a glance over at Draco. Feeling her eyes on him, he looked up, made a hole with his left hand, and inserted his right index finger through it. She smirked at him and turned back to Harry.

"You know," she said, pointing her spoon at Harry, "I didn’t tell you, but it’s likely a Prefect.” In spite of her conversation with Malfoy, she was eager to tell her friends about her latest theory. She was confident that neither Ginny nor Harry were behind the potion even though they could have gotten the password from either Ron or Lavender. Ron wouldn’t do it. He was like Ginny. Any anger would be explosive and in public. Harry could be sneaky and he certainly didn’t enjoy being the middle man during Ron and Hermione’s fall outs, but she couldn’t see him pulling a stunt like this. On her anyway. He wasn't one to encourage fighting or drama between his friends. And Lavender was… well, Lavender. Dumber than a bag of nails.

There must be something Hermione was missing. Someone she had overlooked.

Ron glared at the Slytherin table. "Malfoy's a Prefect."

Hermione didn't miss a beat. "Definitely not him, Ron."

Ron shifted his glare to her. "I’m not finished with him."

Lavender sighed, clearly on the verge of tears. "Oh, for Merlin's sake, can't you just leave it alone?" She shoved her tray away, got up and walked out, leaving her food half eaten.

Ron looked up with his fork still half out of his mouth. "What? What did I do?"

Ginny sighed and went up to go after her, but Hermione stopped her. "Things are better between us. I'll go see if I can help."

She ran out to catch up with Lavender.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Lavender!" Hermione called out to her as she walked to Gryffindor Tower. "Hey, hold on!" She tried jogging to catch up, but the pain in her knees came back to her. "Lavender, wait!"

Lavender didn't stop, and continued on up and through the portrait. Hermione walked as fast as her pained legs would carry her. She entered the portrait hole to see Lavender quietly crying on the plush chair in the corner of the Gryffindor common room.

Hermione walked over to her. If it was Ginny, she would have hugged her right away. But it was still too awkward between the her and Lavender for hugs. Well, she had to try, right?

She put a tentative arm around Lavender's heaving shoulders.

"Hey! Hey!" she said in a soothing voice. "I know Ron's a git. Do you know how many times I've cried over the stupid things that come out of his mouth?" Lavender didn't answer, so Hermione continued, "He can be such an idiot some—"

"It's not him!" Lavender cut her off.

"Pardon?" asked Hermione, taken aback.

"It's not him! He's a perfectly good boyfriend. It’s just that…." She sobbed into her hands some more. "He still loves you..."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest.

"Don't bother. I know you have more history than we do," she sniffed, and wiped her nose. "Can I really fault him for wanting to avenge you?" Her voice softened. "It's admirable, really, the passion he shows."

"But –"

Lavender threw her hands in the air. "If you were to tell him that you've changed your mind, he'd dump me in a heartbeat and go running to you."

"That's not true!"

Lavender suddenly turned around towards Hermione in anger.

"Isn't it? You're so much better than I am! You're smarter, and he takes you more seriously. You've got ambitions. You don't study Divination because it’s-" she made air quotes with her fingers, "-utter nonsense. It doesn't matter to you that the Ministry has tens of thousands of prophecies in their vault and that the war was won with the help of one! You think those that do study it, like me, are… what?" Lavender snapped, cutting off another one of Hermione's protests.

Hermione opened her mouth again but Lavender was right. She was really ashamed of how she had been treating Lavender since she had become a "regular" in their group. But she couldn't find the words to express it.

Lavender continued, glaring at Hermione. "You're not just some airhead he's on the rebound with. And I hate it!" she yelled before she turned back to sobbing.

Hermione had never felt so low in her life. She had been absolutely awful to Lavender. She didn't realize how painful the way she had treated her had been, especially with Lavender's insecurity about Ron. She had mistakenly assumed that Lavender hadn't noticed her eye rolls and off-hand comments. Apparently, she was more observant than Hermione thought.

"Lavender, I'm sorry that I've made you feel this badly. I really am. Nobody else felt that way about you, you know? Everyone told me that I was being too harsh on you, and they were right. And recently, I've changed my mind about you. You're really good for Ron. We've all noticed changes in him, me included. He's happier than he's ever been before, more considerate, and he's completely nutters over you. And yes, I'll admit it. I didn't like you two together. But all of those changes in him are because of you."

Lavender looked at her in contemplation, then her pretty face scrunched up in anger again, and she stood up, towering over Hermione. "You sanctimonious bitch!" she spat at her.

Hermione took a step back, warily.

"What you're really saying is that airheads make him happy!"

Hermione denied this vehemently, even though that was exactly what she had been thinking. "That's not what I'm saying at all!"

"Oh, no? You wouldn't even take my notes from the classes you weren't paying attention to. I'm not smart enough to copy notes from? Not even History of Magic, Hermione?” Lavender’s voice was dripping with scorn. “Really?"

"Come on, Lavender! The Ravenclaws are the top—"

"Forget the notes! I'm not smart enough for you to waste time being civil to?"

"You weren't exactly—"

Lavender's voice raised an octave as she became more hysterical. "I'm not smart enough to be in your group?”

“No one said-“

“I'm not smart enough to be with Ron?"

"Lavender! That's not—"

"I'm not smart enough to have slipped you the _Lustfarae?_ "

Hermione thought she heard wrong. "What?"

"I couldn't possibly have pulled that off, could I? It’s a bloody simple potion, but oh no! It had to be a Ravenclaw! Or a Slytherin!" Lavender cried some more.

"You—" Hermione was still trying to process the information. Her surprise was quickly turning into anger. "You, WHAT? You—" she sputtered.

Lavender smiled meanly at her, wiping away a few of her tears. "I put the _Lustfarae_ in the salt shaker the night before. That's why I was nice to you that morning, so that we would sit together. Everyone was distracted by Ron when I was getting him off and didn't notice when I placed it in front of you. After you used it, you were looking in the opposite direction when I vanished it."

Hermione ground her teeth. "I can't _believe_ you would—"

Her eyes blazed at Hermione's. "You knew I hated you and you never even considered me a suspect! I was too stupid to be capable of something like that, wasn't I? You just said so not five minutes ago!"

"That's not true!" Hermione shouted back, her anger returning in full force. "I didn't consider you because I trusted you! Like I trusted Ron!"

"You _trusted_ me?" Lavender yelled incredulously. "Liar!"

She knew she had lied but continued to deny it. "I'm not—"

"Merlin, Hermione! Didn't you notice something was off that morning? After the way you've treated me for the past half year, why would I have been nice to _you_ all of a sudden? You don't deserve it!"

Hermione raised her voice. "You never liked me to begin with!"

Lavender yelled back, countering her. "You shut me out! Once I got back with Ron and joined your group, you never gave me a chance! You made me feel unwanted from _day one!_ Everyone else was nice to me except _you!_ "

"Well, I was right to be! You were _way_ out of line with that stunt. Are you completely _daft_?" Hermione screamed at her, purposely insulting her intelligence.

Lavender dug her nails into her palms.

Hermione, remembering her embarrassment, started shaking with anger. "And after that day in Potions?" She could almost feel steam blowing out of her ears as she relived being exposed to the class and rutting herself on Draco in public, while Ron and Harry lay tied up on the ground.

"I could have hurt someone!" she continued screaming, absolutely furious. "Did you even _think_ about the consequences of what you did? Or would that hurt your head too much?"

Lavender snarled.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and closed the distance between them. "Ron really is too good for you!" she spat at her.

Lavender smirked down at Hermione through her tears. "Well, maybe I'm not so smart. I thought I took Crabbe's quill that day."

Hermione scoffed, "You couldn't even do that right-" Her eyes widened as she understood the implications of Lavender's admission and her last fuse blew.

"CRABBE?" she shrieked as she lunged at Lavender.

Lavender squealed in surprise. Not expecting the assault, she was thrown bodily to the ground as Hermione clawed at her.

"What the – ? Get the bloody hell off of me!" Lavender howled as Hermione tried to get her in a headlock.

"Oh, just you wait! You've got a lot more coming your way! Fucking bint!" Hermione grunted with the effort. "—can't believe you – AAAH!"

Lavender pulled on her hair to pry her off and Hermione wailed at the pain. Hermione pinched Lavender's underarm and she screamed, immediately letting go of her hair.

The two struggled on the ground amidst shrieks and pants for breath. Despite her smaller size, Hermione managed to turn Lavender around face down on the ground and twist her right arm behind her back.

"Do you know how horrible it was that day?" Hermione yelled at her and twisted her arm harder.

"Aaah!" Lavender struggled to extract her wand with her left hand while Hermione continued to yell at her.

"I could have seriously hurt someone! I attacked Ron and Harry! And what if someone else used the salt besides me? What if you didn't vanish the salt in time?"

Hermione pressed her knee into the small of Lavender's back.

"Oomph!" Lavender strained. She almost had her wand.

Hermione continued to taunt her. "Why don't you get one of the Ravenclaws to plot your revenge schemes for you next time? At least they wouldn't have –"

She never got to finish her sentence.

" _Petrificus Totalus!_ "

Hermione's body froze. 

_Bollocks!_

She was too cocky, too busy taunting and not paying attention. That was the second time she had underestimated Lavender.

Lavender breathed a sigh of relief and extracted herself from Hermione's hold. She tilted Hermione back gently until her frozen form was lying on the floor, legs splayed from having straddled Lavender. Under any other circumstances, both girls would have found her position extremely funny.

 _How nice_ , Hermione thought sarcastically as her head gently touched the floor, _she doesn't want to do me any_ physical _harm_.

Panting for breath, Lavender opened her mouth as if to start a fresh tirade. She then changed her mind and closed her mouth. Her shoulders sank in defeat. She pressed her palms into her eyes, but couldn't stop the tears from flowing again.

"Do you know what it's like..." she started in a quivering voice, but a loud sob cut her off. She tried again. "Do you know what it's like to be somebody's rebound? To be so completely in love, yet never knowing if they really, truly love you back in the same way?"

Hermione stared at the ceiling. From the position that Lavender had laid her in, she didn't have much other choice.

"You've been a shadow over our relationship since the beginning." Her shoulders heaved with sobs. "Last year, he chose you over me. Remember? And you didn't even want him. You changed your mind."

Hermione remembered how uncomfortable her relationship with Ron had been after Voldemort's defeat, when she had come to the realization that she didn't love him the way that he had loved her. He had been crushed.

"And I loved him, even then. And it hurt when he left me for you in sixth year. Do you know what that felt like? To be discarded like leftovers for somebody else?" Fresh tears streamed down her face.

Hermione had to admit that she'd never given much thought to Lavender's feelings two years ago. The Won-Won's and Lav-Lav's had gotten on everybody's nerves. Harry and Ginny were both relieved when it seemed that Hermione and Ron would finally get together in the end. She was perfectly capable of feeling bad for rejecting Ron, but she had never imagined what Lavender must have felt after Ron rejected her. She had never even considered Lavender. Lavender was simply beneath her notice. She felt terrible.

"It really hurt. And I tried to get over him. But then he came to me again, and I knew—" she conjured a tissue and blew her nose in between sobs, "I knew that he only came because you had rejected him. I knew it and I didn't care, I just wanted to be with him. I still loved him, even though he didn't love me."

Hermione felt her anger slowly subside. She really felt sorry for her.

Lavender dropped to the ground and hugged her knees. She gulped back her tears. "He loves me now, I know he does. But not like he loves you. He's always loved you. And I..." She bent her head down, pressing her forehead to her knees. "I just hoped that he would grow to love me more with time, but this whole –" she waved her hand in the air, "— thing completely backfired. Watching Ron go ape-shit over Malfoy having his hands on you just..." She gave a resigned sigh. "I'll always be second to you."

Despite herself, Hermione was feeling bad for Lavender. She sounded so full of despair. But she couldn't be right, could she? Was Ron still pining for her? They were good friends. They were friends with a history, yes, but friends and nothing more. She knew that Ron had loved her once; it was obvious from how he had taken her rejection. But did he still love her in that way? They were hardly alone together anymore since the war, which occurred during that summer. He was always with Lavender.

"And you just made it all worse. I know I'm not as smart as you; I know I wasn't as brave as you were in the war, I know I didn’t share the adventures you two had here at Hogwarts growing up. But you didn't have to make it so painfully obvious."

Hermione would have cringed if she could have moved her face muscles. She hadn't truly realized how awful she had been. And coupled with Lavender's insecurities, well, that was like rubbing salt in the wound. A big, gaping wound.

"You treated me like I was insignificant. Not worth your time, not deserving of anybody's friendship in your group. Not deserving of Ron. Well, maybe I _don't_ deserve Ron if I can't make him love me more than you. I’m not you, and being myself isn't good enough."

Hermione was in shock. Was it possible that Lavender's self-esteem was that low? She felt horrible.

Lavender's breathing came in a gasp as she fought back another sob. "Well, if you were hoping that one day I'd just get the hint that I was unwanted and leave, you may just get your wish. Tell McGonagall what I did, tell Snape, tell Ron. I'll admit to it, I don't," she said, wiping away the tears that started streaming down her face again, "I don't fucking care anymore, it hurts too much."

She slowly got up, dragged her feet towards the stairs and climbed up. Hermione heard the door to the girls’ dorms shut and she was able to move her limbs again as Lavender released the spell.

Hermione stretched and stood up. She could hear Lavender's sobbing all the way from the dorms.

As she listened to Lavender's muffled crying, she thought about how she never did give Lavender a chance, and had snubbed her ever since Ron had decided to pursue her. She had completely disregarded her and never gave a thought as to how Lavender must have felt this whole time, what with Lavender trying to be accepted by their group and Hermione's unforgiving stance. All the while, Lavender worried that Hermione would change her mind and Ron would leave her. For the first time, she began to think that she really was a complete and utter bitch.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione was sitting on one of the sofas, still deep in thought when everyone started filtering into the common room. Ron plopped down next to her.

"Is she okay?" he asked. Hermione stared at him. He did care about Lavender. That much was certain.

"It's not you, Ron," Hermione said, smirking. "For once."

Ron punched her arm.

"Ow!" she said, rubbing her arm. "That hurt!"

"Wuss."

"I did a lot of arm exercises today. I'm really sore!"

Looking into Ron's eyes, Hermione smiled warmly. She _did_ miss the times they had together now that he was attached to Lavender at the hip.

"She’s had a bad day. I think it would help if you told her how you felt about her. She's up in the girls' dorms now, but maybe she'll come back down later."

"Thanks, Hermione. You know," Ron stared at his hands, "it really means a lot to me that you two are getting along now. She'd kill me for telling you this, but I think," he glanced over at her, "I think she really looks up to you."

Hermione gulped. She didn't think she could possibly feel any worse about her mistreatment of Lavender.

Ron looked down at his hands again. "She admires you a lot. I don't think you realize how much a friendship between you two would mean to her." A huge grin spread across his face. "And I'm glad that it's finally happening. It means a lot to me as well. I just want to see her happy."

Hermione felt like an arse, but she forced a smile to her face. "Good. Things will be better between us," she promised.

He smiled back at her, not breaking the eye contact. It had been a while since the two of them had been so close together since she had given him "the talk." Was Lavender right? Was he still in love with her?

Hermione swallowed.

"Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"If someone had given Lavender the _Lustfarae_ instead of me, what would you have done?"

She could see the wheels turning in his head as he imagined the girl that he loved rubbing herself all over someone else. His eyes darkened and his whole body tensed as a murderous scowl appeared on his face.

"What kind of question is that Hermione? I'd kill the git. And I wouldn't give a shit as to what you, Harry, or even she wanted. He'd have every fucking bone in his body broken. The _only_ reason I'm not going after Malfoy now is because Lav asked me not to. The whole thing is upsetting her."

"Sorry, Ron. I didn't mean to make you angry."

He got up to play wizarding chess with Harry, muttering to himself. Hermione smiled, Lavender really was a good influence on him. And his answer satisfied her. She felt secure in the fact that he really did love Lavender.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I manage to fool anyone or was it obvious that it was Lavender? It's hard to tell sometimes.  
> Next up: How will Draco and Hermione interact without the influence of the potion?


	6. Saturday

A few days passed since Hermione's confrontation with Lavender. She had eaten her meals at off times to miss her group, and give Lavender the space she needed. She told them that she had studies to catch up on and research to do to find out who the perpetrator of the prank was, and nobody questioned her. Technically, she wasn't lying. She was in the library right now, trying to catch up on her studies. She had also been researching about… other things.

As she levitated a book back to its shelf, a warm hand slid around her waist, entered the opening of her blouse and splayed across her stomach. A nose nuzzled into her neck and she smiled as Draco's familiar scent encased her. Humming with appreciation of his touch, she brought her hands back to feel his muscular legs and groped his arse. His pelvis twitched forward in response and he chuckled.

"Mmmmm, I missed you," Draco purred into her ear and gave it a playful nip. "Where have you been hiding today? I’ve been looking everywhere and I’ve finally caught you." His voice lowered. "And since you made me wait, there will be no mercy."

Hermione turned around with a gleam in her eye.

"Promise?"

Her hands were already fumbling with his belt buckle as he walked her backwards to a corner, casting a Silencing Charm around them. She began to loosen his trousers and pull his already hard member out of his boxers. She started to stroke him, but he captured her hands before she could pump him too hard and drew them behind her, still walking her backwards until she hit the wall.

"Hands off,” he commanded. 

She grinned devilishly up at him. Holding her wrists behind her with one hand, he began to feel his way under her skirt with the other.

He raised an eyebrow. "What are you looking so satisfied about?"

Towering over her, his fingers inched higher up her leg, and her smirk grew. His eyes widened.

_No knickers!_

"You," he leaned down to kiss her, "are a naughty -" Another kiss. " - naughty, girl." He bit her lower lip for a few seconds and then released it.

He gave her a feral grin. "Have you been going without knickers all day, hoping that I would find you?"

She quirked an eyebrow in return. "I knew you’d find me eventua-"

His mouth descended onto hers before she could finish her sentence. He released her wrists and tangled his fingers in her hair. She moaned into his mouth as his other hand stroked her damp folds. She quivered as warmth and need pulsed through her.

Hermione ran her hands through his hair, down his shoulders and over his muscled chest. She loved the feeling of his hard, masculine body under her hands and pressed against her body. She reached down to massage his arse and he raised her leg and wrapped it around him for better access. As he lowered himself to the ground, he kissed her neck and then the open V area of her blouse. His one hand cupped her arse and he continued to fondle her core with the other. Hermione's breathing sped up as she leaned back against the shelves and ran her fingers through his hair. He propped her leg up on his shoulder now as he kneeled in front of her. He looked up at her with heat and desire in his eyes. First he inserted one finger and then another into her hot wetness, and slowly applied pressure to her G-spot, watching her pant and bite her lip.

Hermione fisted his hair and pulled him towards her as she groaned.

"Oh, keep doing that, it's so – oh!"

Draco's hot tongue ran over her clit as he stimulated her inner wall. This time, he didn't make her wait and brought her to a swift and powerful orgasm with his mouth and fingers. She bucked her hips on his face and she cried out his name, panting. As he felt the last of her contractions around his fingers, he slowly extracted them when Hermione caught his wrist.

He looked up into her lust filled eyes. The shit-eating grin returned to her face. He was learning to like that grin. Slowly and deliberately, she raised his wet fingers to her mouth. Looking directly into his eyes, she inserted one of his fingers into her mouth and licked her juices off. He stood up to watch her, lips parted and heart racing.

_Merlin!_

He stood up slowly, towering over her. She ran her tongue all over his finger, slowly licking and finally sucking his whole finger into her mouth. She swirled her tongue around it and looked up into his piercing, molten gaze. The sensation raced right from his finger and down to his cock.

He stared down at her entranced. Would she go down on him? He wasn’t sure how experienced she was. They hadn’t talked about it yet, and the _Lustfarae_ potion made it impossible to tell.

She slowly extracted his finger from her mouth while simultaneously applying suction. "Granger..." he groaned as his finger popped out of her mouth.

"So I've been reading a bit," she began.

That grin of hers was back.

"Were you now?" he asked, his voice husky.

"Yes I was, and I'd like to try something new." She ran her hands down his front and started to lightly stroke his member again.

"Something new?" he growled at her. She gripped him down there with more force and cupped his balls lightly, running her fingers over them back and forth. He bucked and hissed.

"Yes, but you're going to have to be patient. You see, I only know how to do this theoretically. I have no… ummm…" She licked her lips and his cock twitched in her hands. "… Practical experience."

Pre-cum left the tip of his cock; she swiped it up with her finger and brought it to her mouth.

"Merlin!" he whispered. She began to lower herself to a kneel in front of him.

_Yes! Yes! Yes!_

He clutched the shelves and leaned back against them as he felt her lick his member with her tongue. He could feel his cock twitch with each touch, with each swipe of her warm tongue. Merlin, he wanted to be in her mouth! She continued to lick him up and down, swirling her tongue around the sides and tip. Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, he felt the warm expanse of her mouth as he entered her.

He shuddered and let out a string of expletives. She began to pump him with her hand as an extension of her mouth. Slowly at first, back and forth. Her other hand, which had been lightly caressing his balls, inched backward to apply pressure to his taint and rub it back and forth. The saliva from her mouth dripped downwards, lubricating the area as she rubbed it. He felt desire coil around his body and went rigid.

"Merlin!" he gasped for the second time.

Which books was she reading? He'd have to try that the next time he wanked. He could feel her smile around his cock, and he grinned.

"Don't think too highly of yourself Granger" he teased, looking down at her. "You’re not that greeeeeaaaahhhhh!"

His eyes bulged. Without warning, she had inserted her finger into his anus. He held onto the bookshelves for support as the unfamiliar sensation of being violated from there weakened his knees. Before he had time to think about the irony of the situation, she stroked his prostate. He bucked hard as her finger moved in time with her mouth and hand along his member, and his orgasm approached without warning.

"Fuck! I'm going to - ungh!"

He held onto the bookshelves, clenched his thighs and blew his load into the back of her mouth. She kept stroking his prostate and member, and before he had a chance to say anything else, he felt a second orgasm rip though his body, without cum. He grunted and bucked his hips as the last of his orgasm passed.

Still clutching the bookcase, he hung his head and waited for his breathing to steady. She slowly and gingerly extracted her finger from his anus and released his member from her mouth. He shuddered from the oversensitivity of his genital area and slid down to the floor next to her, pulling his pants up.

Draco looked at Hermione with wonder in his eyes. She smiled at him and swallowed. _She swallowed his cum._

"You are… fucking amazing."

She smiled wickedly. "I wanted to make you feel as good as you make me feel."

“Oh my God you fucking do.” He leaned his head back against the bookshelf and let out a long breath. "Fucking. Amazing."

He turned his head to study her again. "Come here."

He dragged her into a hug on his lap, buried his face into her neck and hair, and breathed in her scent. Neither one of them talked or moved for a few minutes as they sat breathing silently together on the floor.

"So what are these books you're reading anyway? I approve."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione and Draco were huddled together in a far corner table working on Transfiguration theory. They had started doing classwork together these past few days, since she had taken the antidote. They worked well together, and she knew enough about him by now not to be surprised by that.

Curiously enough, even though she decided not to tell her friends about Lavender, she felt she could share it with him. After all, he had been just as much affected by Lavender's ill-thought out prank as she had. If she would have confided in him earlier, he would have figured out it was Lavender anyway. He had already told her, motivation was key. Lavender had motivation in spades and he wasn’t biased by suppositions about her intelligence like Hermione was.

"So it was Lavender the whole time? Hah! I told Potter it wasn't a Slytherin." Draco gloated with enjoyment. "What are you going to do about her?”

“Well I was think-“

“I know what I'm going to do,” he interrupted her, waggling his eyebrows. “Buy her flowers. Chocolates. Write her a personalized thank you note. Have her serenaded nightly. Whatever the hell she wants."

Hermione looked up with a rueful grin. "I'll do nothing. In fact, I still need to apologize to her."

Draco’s mouth opened in surprise.

Hermione explained. "Even if the results of her prank wouldn't have been so…."

"Fan-fucking-tastic!"

"I was going to say-"

"Mind-blowing!"

"Positive."

Draco looked at her incredulously. "So a _positive_ experience got you to admit that you're my Mudblood whore? Ow!"

She kicked him under the table. He glared at her, grabbed her knee and squeezed. Hard. She winced.

"Quit with the shin kicking," he growled at her menacingly. She looked up, feeling a jolt of fear.

He bet he'd left finger shaped bruises. _Good._ He loosened his hold and smirked back at her, caressing her thigh gently. "That's more like it." Hermione stared nervously into his grey eyes. He was sexy when he was bad and he knew it.

"You were saying?" he prodded her with a grin playing across his lips.

Hermione cleared her throat. "Even if things hadn't turned out okay in the end, I would still say that I deserved it."

Draco raised his eyebrows with interest. "Oh, really?"

"Well, not the prank per se. But I was intolerant and completely nasty to her. I certainly deserved her anger and resentment."

The corners of Draco's mouth lifted wickedly and his hand tightened possessively on her thigh. "How about I bend you over my knee, lift your skirt and spank your bare ass right now? Tell Lavender to watch while you count the beatings.”

She flushed at the memory of him spanking her in the locker room and felt a tightening below at the thought of being laid over his knees like a naughty schoolgirl.

He leaned in closer and whispered into her ear. “I’ll wear my Death Eater robes and mask.”

She closed her eyes and gulped. _Gods!_ He knew exactly how to turn her on. They were so similar in some ways, it was easy to connect with him. She turned to him, studying his eyes and the wicked look on his face.

His grin faltered and he eyed her warily. "What?"

“Why do you enjoy being hurt so much?” she certainly knew why she did. Draco knew that responsibility for herself, for her friends, for her parents, and for the war had weighed heavily on her for years. And with that responsibility came self-doubt, fear of failure and letting everyone down, and constant worrying that the decisions others relied on her for were the wrong ones. Relinquishing control was cathartic, as was being spanked for her self-perceived failures and inadequacies.

His fingers stilled on her thigh. “I’ve certainly done enough to be punished for, haven’t I?”

“So if Pansy or Daphne or someone else would tie you up, bite and pinch you, you’d enjoy it?” She hadn’t asked about his previous sexual encounters before. Obviously, he was more experienced than she was, but she didn’t really know with whom or how much.

He glanced down at his textbook for a few moments and his thumb caressed her skin gently. Tenderly. She saw his cheeks flush at the memory of her biting and pinching him hard. He didn’t let her heal any of the bruises she made on his body last night. “I don’t think so. It’s more fitting coming from you. I didn’t know how much I would like it until that day in Potions.”

“So I was your… first?” she asked with a seductive look.

He gave her a heated glance. “In that way, yes. You were.”

“And yet you enjoy punishing me. Even though I haven’t done anything to you.”

He carefully placed his quill down on the parchment in front of him. “I have never had control over my life or over my future. The last two years were…” she saw him swallow. “…terrifying. Sex is one area I can have complete control of. I think specifically with you, it’s an outlet for what I was taught to believe, what I was taught Muggle-borns were good for.”

She nodded. It was fascinating when he opened up. “There are other Muggle-borns at Hogwarts,” she countered.

He blinked at her. “You’ve battled Death Eaters verbally and physically while still underage and helped win the war.” He struggled to formulate his thoughts and spoke slowly. “Punishing Hermione Granger for defying everything that I’ve been taught and those that taught me is infinitely more satisfying. Indeed, my family and I would have been rewarded for bringing the Golden Girl down. The Dark Lord wouldn't have punished us as much.”

She leaned back in her chair. He said her name like she was a concept, not just a person. “So while you don’t believe any of that nonsense you still get off on punishing me for going against it.”

He furrowed his brow in thought as if confirming what she was saying. He took a hesitant breath and answered, “Yes.”

Her lips formed a half-smile and she laid her hand over his affectionately. “You’re fucked up, Draco Malfoy.”

He let out a breath in relief, seeing that his highly personal explanation hadn’t disturbed her. Then he leaned in again and said in a low voice, “Says the slut who wants me to dress up like a Death Eater, call her a Mudblood whore, make her lick my Dark Mark and spank her until she begs for my cock.”

Her heart thudded in her chest and his hand crept up her thigh under her skirt. This conversation was so much more interesting than Transfiguration Theory. He was laying himself bare for her. She tilted her head to the side, not sure if she wanted to ask the next question. "Draco, what are we now?"

His hand paused and he answered hesitantly. "Do you want a label for us?"

She thought a minute. "Not necessarily. I don’t know how to explain us. Are we public? Are we secret? Do you mind if your friends know?"

He sat back and considered her question. "Do you mind if your friends know?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. _So typically Slytherin._ Answering a question with a question. But still, he had been open with her. She could do the same.

"We’re doing homework together regularly now. You’re always staring at my legs in class and looking at me – right like that – _that_ look!” He smirked. “We haven't really made any attempts to be discreet except when we…" She looked up at him with a sensual smile. “…engage in physical activities.” His fingers stroked her thigh. “They haven't noticed yet, but they will eventually. They're not complete idiots."

He tickled the hair between her legs. "I'd beg to differ."

She smacked his hand down. He brought it right back up. She pursed her lips together in frustration and he grinned back in amusement.

"I'm _trying_ to have a conversation with you."

He continued to work his way under her skirt and looked at her earnestly. "I'm listening."

"I'd have to lay the groundwork first. Ron is still ready to kill you."

Draco snorted. "The feeling's mutual." His fingers reached to where there were no knickers and he started to probe.

"Oh, well, that's settled then. You've got so much in common," she said, as she pushed his hand away again.

Draco looked at her as if she had grown another head. "I know you're kidding, but don't even start hoping for it." The hand was back up under her skirt. He looked at her insolently.

"What do you want to do about your friends?"

He licked his lips pensively and stared at her. "Whatever you want. Half of them want to fuck you anyway. We could keep this a secret but," Draco grinned at her evilly. "I wouldn't mind showing them that my territory is marked." 

She gave him another kick under the table. His eyes hardened and he was on her before she had a chance to move. He pulled on her hair, dragged her head back, and growled in a low voice. "You're lucky I have to go now, Mudblood."

His fingers rubbed her clit and she spread her legs wider for him. A rush of adrenaline sped through her as she looked into his grey eyes, full of dangerous promise.

"I don't think that you've adequately learned your lesson," he continued, his voice full of menace.

His fingers pinched and twisted her clit painfully. She whimpered. He lowered his face to her even further with his hot breath directly on her ear.

"Next time," he whispered, "it won't be my finger taking you from behind." She gasped as he pinched her clit again, leaving her in a right state before walking off.

Draco left the library without looking back, smiling all the way to Quidditch practice.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Thinking that three days were sufficient time for Lavender to cool off, Hermione summoned her courage and headed to the Gryffindor common room. Lavender was sitting in between Ron and Harry and the three were laughing. She felt relieved in that she was happy for them instead of resentful of Lavender's presence. It was a welcome change, and she felt better about herself.

Maybe this whole experience had changed her for the better. Hopefully. She didn't like how she had behaved before around Lavender. Furthermore, she didn't like that she had justified her treatment of Lavender, giving herself the moral high ground.

She took a breath and approached her. " Lavender, I need help with…"

Lavender looked at her warily. Hermione was going to say something about hair, but realized that she would just be repeating the same mistakes that she made earlier when Lavender had rejected her apology.

"…with catching up on History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures. I'm missing two days of notes, and yours are much better organized than either Harry's or Ron's."

Ron snorted. "That's not saying much. A Hippogriff's notes would be more organ- ow!" Lavender elbowed him in the ribs.

"Okay," Lavender said warily. "My notes are upstairs."

The two girls walked awkwardly together to the girls' dorms. When they reached Lavender's bed, she leafed through a few parchments and retrieved what Hermione needed.

"Thanks… I," Hermione cleared her throat. “ I wanted-"

"I wanted to apologize," Lavender interrupted her.

Hermione looked up, surprised. That's what she came here for.

"Slipping you the potion was a nasty thing to do. And I really appreciate that you didn't say anything. I think Ron would have dumped me had he found out. And I certainly would have lost all of you as friends." Lavender sighed. "I really am sorry. And you were right, I didn't think all of the consequences through. I wanted Ron to stop wanting you. It could have been dangerous."

"I Stunned Snape."

"Well, the _negative_ consequences," Lavender quipped and they both laughed.

After a few seconds the moment passed into awkward silence.

Hermione cleared her throat. "I deserved your anger."

Lavender was startled. "No, Hermione, you really didn't. Not like that."

Hermione continued. "I've treated you horribly since you and Ron have been together. I misjudged you, and when I apologized three days ago for my behavior, I realized that I hadn't stopped misjudging you. You were absolutely right."

Lavender listened patiently.

Hermione took a deep breath. "I'm a stuck-up bitch. I think that I'm better than a lot of other people. Not just you."

Lavender gasped, then giggled.

Hermione let a small grin appear. "No, it's okay. It's true. And you've known it's true for a long time. I haven't. But I'm trying to change those things. Okay?"

Lavender nodded.

Thinking of Draco and how he had surprised her, she continued, "People are very complex. You can't suss them out so quickly. How can anyone hope to understand a person that they don't take the time to know?"

She brought her thoughts back to Lavender. "And I didn't take the time to get to know you. So why don't we start over? And take the time to know each other?"

Lavender gave her a genuine smile. "I'd like that."

"I'll start." Hermione looked at her mischievously. "I'll tell you something that Harry, Ron and Ginny don't even know yet."

"What's that?" Lavender asked, now full of curiosity.

Hermione smirked. "That potion of yours was the best thing to happen to me."

Lavender's eyebrows shot up to her forehead.

"Oh, really?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this was supposed to be the ending. However, some reviewers thought there were loose ends that needed to be tied up. It's a two part epilogue: hot and steamy.  
> Coming up next!
> 
> Please send comments, they are fun to read.


	7. Epilogue (4 weeks later) - Part 1

"Not now!" Hermione giggled nervously as Draco chased her around the Heads' common room.

Draco caught the struggling Hermione by the waist and pulled her flush against him.

"Yes, now." He glowered down at her. "You can't get me worked up like that and not expect to get fucked." He lowered his lips to her ear and growled, "Cock tease."

He did have a point. Over the past few days, she had been teasing him during the classes they had together. Whenever she'd catch him staring at her, she would play with her quill with her tongue as if in thought, or lick her lips, or push her chest out while stretching her arms, or hike her skirt up whilst pretending to scratch an itch on her upper thigh, or bend over in his direction, allowing him to see down her shirt. She knew that he knew that she knew exactly what she was doing, but she didn't care. She wouldn't look at him directly, continuing her façade of nonchalance, but she could still see him tense up and shift in his seat.

He, of course, would invariably seek her out when the teasing became too much for him, but she made sure to always be surrounded by people, and would later hide in the Heads' common room, essentially keeping him in a constant state of want. He had met her eyes while she was talking with Harry and Ron the other day outside of Transfiguration and from the look on his face, she thought that he would drag her away from them and damn the consequences. She hadn't told Harry and Ron yet about her trysts with Draco. That probably would have resulted in fighting, yelling, attempted murder, or worse – maybe even getting themselves expelled.

She _really_ wasn't looking forward to having that conversation.

In the meantime, it was fun to play mental games with Draco. That's why they had such great sexual chemistry. However, she had developed feelings for him these past few weeks and had the unsettling feeling that they weren't mutual. She was afraid of approaching him about it lest she put herself in the position that Pansy was in. She didn't quite trust him in that regard. The empty ache that she felt in her stomach when she thought of him not wanting to stray from their booty call arrangement told her that she had in actuality developed very strong feelings for him. If she were completely honest with herself, she would admit that on a subconscious level, her toying with him was creating the illusion that he was chasing after her, when it was really the other way around.

Apparently, he'd caught on to her game, albeit not the reasoning.

Not fifteen minutes ago, she had "accidentally" dropped her textbook in front of him while walking into Ancient Runes. She'd bent over to pick it up with her backside facing him, allowing her skirt to hike up considerably. Feeling quite pleased with herself, she'd turned around to smirk at him, but the half-smile had frozen on her face. His jaw had been clenched angrily and his eyes were dark with lust.

She'd known then that she was in trouble, as evidenced by his actions now.

"What did you think?" His eyes glittered menacingly. "That I would be at your beck and call?"

He essentially had been. She enjoyed toying with him, but her time was up. He pinned her arms to her sides and proceeded to walk her backwards towards the portrait door. She struggled in his grasp.

"You _were_ getting fairly predictable." She gasped as her back collided with the door, the force of Draco's weight pinning her there.

She knew she was pushing her luck by antagonizing him, but that was half the fun.

"Blaise could come back any minute!" Hermione protested as she squirmed, jerking her head out of the way. Blaise was actually tutoring a second-year right now, but she was trying to regain some of the leverage that she'd held over Draco for the past few days. Stalling would allow her some time to think. She couldn't put two thoughts together with Draco's hands roughly groping her legs and thighs, and his body pressing against her.

Draco had apparently weaseled the password to the Heads' common room out of Blaise. It was nice that those two were on good terms again (both of the gits were less moody and much easier to deal with), but Blaise would pay for revealing the password. He would now find more than his fair share of work thrown at him this week, if not all of it. There would also be many death glares directed at his person. _Many._

Draco's voice was muffled as he tried talking while sucking on her neck. "Erfmmmm - can fucking watch."

"Don't be an idiot!" she cried, trying unsuccessfully to pry his hands off her bum.

Draco's hands and lips seemed to be everywhere at once, and her body temperature rose as desire shot through her. Giving in to her passion, she attacked him just as forcefully. She threaded her hands through his hair and proceeded to suck on his jaw, the nape of his neck, and then moved her lips back to his. She felt a grin spread across his face as she released his lower lip.

Hermione pushed herself off the door, grabbed his shoulders, jumped up and wrapped her legs around his waist. He may have caught her, but she was going to be on top this time. Draco seemed to have other ideas and he pushed her against the door again. Their coupling turned into a struggle for dominance.

"Uhh!" She gasped as the breath was knocked out of her and she collided with the hard wood.

Draco's free hand groped her hips and buttocks, both massaging her flesh and attempting to pull down her knickers. After a few painful tugs of the material, he muttered an incantation and they vanished.

Hermione's eyes opened in surprise.

_Wandless?_

Draco smirked as he undid his belt and trousers one-handedly. They fell to a pile around his ankles.

"Best. Spell. Ever."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him.

"If you even try doing that in class," she said as she pinched and twisted his nipple through his shirt for emphasis, "I will _personally_ take your balls and…"

Draco let out a half-laugh, half-gasp as he wrenched Hermione's hand away and slammed it against the door. He pressed against her core, sliding himself over her warm wetness and his eyes flashed at her.

"Enough talk," he growled.

He hooked his arm underneath the crook of her left knee and forced her leg up and back against the door, restricting her movements.

"Right now," he teased her entrance with his member and she jerked and gasped as when it rubbed her clit, "you're mine."

As he thrust up and sank into her, the force of him entering her roughly pushed her head back against the door with a crack.

"Aaaah!" a guttural cry was forced from her mouth.

Her body was lifted with the force of his thrust and he grunted with the exertion. He was all over her, encasing her, inside of her. It felt so good, she didn't know what to do with herself. But her shoulders and back were in pain, taking quite the beating from being slammed repeatedly against the door.

Draco pounded into her, bracing himself against the wall by pinning her right arm and left leg against the back of the portrait door. All she could do was hold on, her right leg wrapped around his waist and left arm clutching his shoulder.

She could feel her orgasm building; small waves of pleasure rippling through her body as he used her.

"Fu- fu- oh, God! I – Aah!" She felt out of control. She had to grab onto something. The heat enflaming her body was too much. The nails of her right hand dug into the palm that Draco pinned against the door. She grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back.

He groaned as he released her right hand. She clasped his neck, feeling the strain of his muscles underneath his skin and a slight vibration in his body, and dug her nails in. He yelled at the sudden pain and laughed.

In retaliation, he brought his hand down to her bum and dug his fingers into her flesh. He pushed her back against the door and pulled her bum forward, in time with his thrusts, molding her to his motions, to his need.

She gasped and yelped each time he penetrated her. She had no control over her body. The sensations rolled over her and she screamed her release as Draco pulled her pelvis tight against his own. He rocked forward and shot his seed into her, shuddering with each emission.

Their breaths came in heaving pants and slowly, they released each other. Muscles that had been tight with the tension of their coupling were now relaxing. She let go of his hair and he leaned his head forward, panting into the nape of her neck.

"Fuck, Granger." His voice strained as he breathed into her ear.

He released his hand from the crook of her knee and slowly lowered her so that she could stand. She felt him slide out of her as her feet touched the floor, but as soon as she was supporting her own weight, her legs buckled, and she nearly fell.

Hermione's arms flailed as she tried to catch herself. Strong hands caught her by the waist and pulled her up again.

"Thanks, I-"

Draco's laughter cut her off.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake-"

"-so hard you can't stand up-"

"-goddamn pleased with yourself."

She tried to let out an exasperated sigh as he helped her sit down on the couch, but she couldn't completely prevent the smile from dancing around her lips. Draco was unabashedly grinning from ear to ear as he zipped his trousers back up.

Her thigh muscles were killing her. Her back ached, and was probably bruised, but that fuck was brilliant.

She turned a critical eye towards Draco from her seated position on the couch.

He _would_ still look put together after a shagging up against the wall. His hair was tousled, but the only thing that might have given him away was a light sheen of sweat on his flushed face. He could have been running to class. Her hair was all over the place and her clothes a wrinkled mess on her body. And now, she didn't even have her knickers on under her skirt.

She rubbed her shoulders. She felt completely knackered while he looked like he could go for round two. Then again, it wasn't _his_ body that would be sore from a position like that.

She yelped as the portrait hole creaked slowly open. Panicked, she met Draco's eyes and they both turned to see Blaise slowly step through the door. Hermione snapped her legs together, wrapped her skirt as tightly as it would go around her legs, and placed her hands protectively in her lap. It wasn't as if Blaise could see anything and it certainly wasn't the first time she'd been without knickers under her skirt, but still. She felt vulnerable after just being shagged - especially in such a manner.

Draco turned to Blaise. "You have impeccable timing."

Dark eyes crinkled in amusement. "Timing? The door isn't soundproof."

Blood rushed to Hermione's face.

_No!_

"I thought you were tutoring?" Her words came out in an embarassed rush.

"Cancelled," Blaise replied as he shut the door behind him. "And here I was thinking it was Goldstein making you scream like that." He turned to Draco and said, "If I knew _that's_ why you wanted the password-"

"Oh, God." Hermione covered her face with her hands. She was so humiliated. It was almost as bad as what had happened in Potions last month.

"Yeah, you screamed that too. Imagine my surprise to see that it was… Drakie."

Hermione looked over at the man in question, still smiling from the results of his sexual prowess and then put her head back in her hands.

_Didn't he feel any shame?_

Her embarrassment was turning into anger. Society allowed men to be proud when caught, but forced women to be shamed for the same act. For Draco, this was even better than bragging about it afterwards. The ultimate way of "marking his territory", as he had put it.

"Seriously, Granger?" Hermione raised her head to Blaise. "You could do so much better. He's got no technique."

Hermione cracked a grateful smile. Maybe Blaise wasn't so bad, trying to ease her mortification. Then again, he could have stayed outside and prevented it entirely.

Draco looked incredulous. "Just two minutes ago-"

Hermione glared daggers at Draco and he abruptly shut his mouth. _Good._ Blaise's eyebrows slowly rose in amusement as his eyes traveled back and forth between the two.

"So… are you two together now?"

That was _the_ worst thing to ask at a time like this. And as she feared, the answer was silence. Awkward silence. The longer the silence extended, the cheaper she felt.

Great. She was essentially Draco Malfoy's fuck toy.

"Uh huh." Blaise was clearly enjoying the awkwardness he had caused between the two.

She looked down at her feet so that she wouldn't be tempted to meet Draco's eyes. He would see right through her.

"Get lost, Zabini," she heard Draco shove Blaise to the door.

"You could do _so_ much better, Granger," Blaise continued, half inside and half outside the common room.

"All _right_ , she heard you." Draco tried to close the door on him.

"With me, you won't have to fake-"

"Sod. Off." Draco shut the door on Blaise.

Hermione continued to stare at her feet and sank into the couch even further. No, they weren't together. It was just sex. And homework. An odd combination, and sometimes one led to the other. They had fun together, she enjoyed spending time with him, she knew he enjoyed spending time with her and certainly enjoyed studying with her. He made her feel special, sexy and desirable.

But that's the way Draco was. He was highly manipulative and could turn on his charm if he wanted to. She'd seen him use it on others before she was given the _Lustfarae_ potion and had been on the receiving end of it several times since they'd started their affair. He was a charismatic person. No wonder so many girls wanted him. No wonder Pansy followed him around. Although lately, Hermione noticed that Pansy had kept her distance. Maybe she had given up and had moved on.

_Smart girl. I could learn from her._

Unfortunately, he didn't show any signs of wanting to change the study mates-with-benefits arrangement that he had with Hermione. Was she going to end up like Pansy? Following Draco around in the hopes that he would return her feelings? Did she even want to? Although she had no reason to believe that he wasn't honest with her, the whole way he had taken advantage of her while she was under the influence of the lust potion bothered her. It wasn't right what he had done, and she still mistrusted him.

"You have to watch Zabini." Draco's voice cut through her reverie. "He's pure Slytherin."

She raised her head to see him gathering up his robes and satchel. He winked at her and she felt butterflies in her stomach.

"He's not the only Slytherin I have to watch," she retorted, to Draco's amusement.

"A bit of advice if he's getting to you," Draco said as he walked over to her. "Insult his mother."

He cupped her chin and gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. Her heartbeat quickened at his unexpected tenderness. Sex came often, but moments like these were rare. Her insides started fluttering uncontrollably while his grey eyes studied her. Maybe he did feel something? Or was she grasping at straws?

His voice lowered slightly and his eyes peered into hers. "He loses all ability to reason."

Her breath caught in her throat and she felt butterflies in her stomach. It just wasn't fair that he could make her feel this way.

Draco's hand dropped and he turned around towards the portrait hole.

"See you around, Granger," he called back.

She watched the portrait door close and quickly re-open. Draco's face reappeared with a malicious smile.

"If you change the password, I _will_ fuck you in front of Pothead and Weasel."

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione was sitting in the Great Hall with the rest of the Gryffindors, slouched in her seat, and facing away from the Slytherin table. Everyone was talking animatedly around her while she remained sullen, poking at her food with her fork.

She eyed Lavender, who gave a quick peck to Ron's cheek. He met Hermione's eyes, blushed and smiled. She smiled back and looked down at her plate of food again.

She couldn't help but be resentful of Lavender. Hermione had thought that she'd forgiven her, but apparently, she hadn't. She felt much more magnanimous four weeks ago when she'd been on top of the world having the time of her life with Draco. Now here she was, a mopey sod. Things looked to be going better than ever between Lav-Lav and Won-Won while she was Malfoy's groupie of the hour.

 _Ugh_.

It would have been less painful if Lavender had succeeded in taking Crabbe's quill. At least the humiliation would have been over and done with by now.

She didn't realize that she was giving Lavender the stink eye until the bitch in question's voice jolted her out of her reverie.

"Hermione, are you okay?"

Ron, Harry, and Ginny turned towards her.

"You looked pissed," Lavender said slowly. "Off, that is."

Hermione stared down at her plate again to avoid the puzzled glances of her friends that were directed towards her.

She was that obvious, was she?

"No, just a bit stressed about an Arithmancy project," she replied quickly. School work made a good cover for just about anything she didn't want to discuss. Since none of her friends had taken Arithmancy, they wouldn't know whether there really was a project or not.

Out of the corner of her eye, she looked at Ron and Lavender's entwined hands. Life sucked. She had been the bigger person. She forgave Lavender. She was working on her… "issues," and yet Lavender got her guy and Hermione didn't.

She couldn't keep her brain from screaming "YOU FUCKING BITCH!" over and over again.

Lavender ended up having her cake and eating it too. She had humiliated Hermione, with no retribution, and now Hermione was humiliating _herself_ by hoping that Draco would consider her more worthy than the others he'd been with, and return her feelings.

She threw her fork down on the table with disgust. As if _she_ had to be worthy enough for _him_.

Fuck that. Fuck Lavender. Fuck Draco. She didn't need any of this shit.

Lavender smiled as Ron wrapped his arm around her. She ground her teeth together and exhaled forcefully. She needed to get out of here, lest her plate shatter to pieces from the force of her stare.

She really was supposed to finish up her Arithmancy project anyway. Wordlessly, she collected her things and stood up to go to the library, ignoring the curious glances her friends were giving her.

As she walked past the Slytherin table, purposely not looking at _him_ , she felt a sudden gust of cool air underneath her skirt. Her knickers had vanished. A _gain_.

Without stopping, she flashed Draco a rude hand gesture - which she hoped wouldn't be seen by any of the professors - and left the Great Hall. Much as she wanted a more emotional bond with him, she wasn't going to make an idiot out of herself any longer.

Grumbling in a low voice, she rounded a corner and collided with the massive wall that was Crabbe.

He looked annoyed, ready to push her aside, when suddenly he realized who he had bumped into. His eyes widened and he sidestepped around her as quick as his bulky frame would permit.

"S-sorry!" he stammered as he scurried out of her way and into the Great Hall.

Hermione smiled to herself. Okay, so there were some perks to that whole ordeal in Potions.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Draco was bent over one of the library tables, furiously looking between two thick tomes and scribbling lines across a parchment. It wasn't like him to procrastinate so much with his assignments, but he'd been a bit distracted lately. Speaking of which, a small hand kept inching its way around the top of his thigh and towards his groin. He shook her hand off with his leg.

"Granger!"

He could see Hermione's eyes widen with feigned innocence out of the corner of his vision.

She was angry. He wasn't sure if it was at him, after Blaise had walked in on them, or at someone else. She had been distant when he first sat down to work on his Arithmancy project next to her, answering his queries with non-committal shrugs and barely-verbal responses; but as soon as he had let on how far behind he was, she had started her campaign of distraction.

She'd inched her chair closer to his and her proximity made his hair stand on end. All he could think about now was that he had Vanished her knickers.

_Stupid._

She crossed her legs and his eyes followed the movement of the toned legs under her skirt. She delicately played with the hem and stated to pull on it, exposing her upper thighs.

"Draco," she purred in his ear. "I've got an itch here."

He felt his arousal start to take shape. Shifting in his seat and turning back to the text, he tried to will his erection away, but it was impossible with her acting like this. Her fingers grazed the skin of her thighs, raising the hemline of her skirt ever so slowly.

Her voice lilted in his ear. "It's right about…"

Against his better judgment, he eyed her legs as she slowly exposed them. The material of her skirt was bunched up, but still covered her most private area. He inhaled quickly. He turned to face her and stared at her lips. They spread in a slow smile, but it wasn't friendly. It was devilish. He forced himself to return his gaze to his parchment.

"Here." Her breath caressed his ear and he saw her hand disappear under her skirt out of the corner of his vision.

Draco clenched his quill and tried to keep his breathing even. "Hermione, I would love to scratch that itch for you. _Later_."

She put her hand on his leg, lightly. His muscle tensed and she inched her hand up again, massaging his thigh through the fabric of his trousers. Heat spread out from her hand and his nostrils flared as he exhaled and tried to concentrate on the problem before him.

"Hermione, this is serious. If I don't solve this problem soon, I won't be able to finish the project on time."

She spread her fingers so that the tips were mere centimeters from his cock - which was now fully erect and forming a tent in his lap. He swallowed and encased her slender wrist with his thumb and forefinger, reluctantly pulling it away.

"But Draco," she leaned in close to him, "I'm hot," she murmured into his ear. "And wet," she whispered.

His mouth went dry. He looked down at his notes; the past few lines were mere scribbles. He couldn't turn to look at her. Her proximity was hard enough to deal with while trying to concentrate. If he looked at her fingering herself, he'd be lost.

"Hermione, please, later." He exhaled sharply as she leaned in and stroked his thigh again, "we'll do whatever you want."

She glanced curiously at the problem he had to solve.

"It's the... theorem. Something's…" he heard his voice crack as she grazed his member over the fabric of his trousers, "wrong."

Her delicate fingers were making maddening circles around his pelvic area and inner thighs. He closed his eyes and slowly opened them again, desire and heat flooding his body. She teased him, her hands coming closer to his groin and then retreating. He didn't dare move. One hand was gripping the side of his chair and the other held his quill.

His voice came out breathy, "Been working on it – ah!" He moaned as a hot wet tongue licked the side of his neck up to his jaw. "All last week, I can't – _Merlin!_ " His eyes closed involuntarily as she nipped and sucked on his earlobe. Her hand cupped his member through the fabric and he bucked up.

"Gaaah! Stop, stop, please," his voice lowered as he continued to fight off the sensations running through his body. "This is serious. I could fail the project."

Firmly, he removed her hand yet again.

"Is it, Draco?" She breathed into his ear.

He felt her breasts press against the side of his face as she stood up and a soft moan escaped his lips.

"Yes," he rasped.

And then mercifully – _regrettably_ \- she stopped rubbing up against him. He let out a sigh and proceeded to think of the necessary images of naked professors to calm his lust since there was no time for a cold shower. It was hard to get rid of an erection, so to speak. Especially if she was going to work next to him _sans_ knickers, but it could be done.

Maybe.

He ran a hand through his hair, feeling hot. "Thanks. I'll make it up to you."

He leaned forward to continue looking for leads on solving the problem when he felt the softness and warmth of the side of her breast press against his cheek. She leaned forward from behind him and rested her hand on his, plucking the quill from his hand. His receding erection came back full force and he involuntarily inhaled her scent, wanting nothing more than to turn his face into her soft cleavage.

He closed his eyes and groaned again. "Please, don't…"

Her breasts jiggled slightly next to his cheek and he couldn't help himself. He reached up to palm one, massaging it, feeling the flesh move. He opened his eyes and saw with surprise that her lightly bouncing breasts were caused by her _writing._ She'd crossed out a few of his calculations, redrew a figure, wrote a final equation and circled it. He stared at the parchment in front of him, gobsmacked.

"Bl-o-o-dy hell. Did you just solve that now?" Hermione was smart, but that was _insane._

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "What? No. I had a similar problem on my project last week. I solved it then, using the same principles."

Draco turned around to face her. "But where did you find the solution? I couldn't find _anything_ here." He gestured to the books that he was reading.

"I didn't _find_ it. It took a long time to figure out."

His jaw dropped. "You solved it yourself?"

That was fucking _hot_. A thought flitted through Draco's mind – would it be weird to wank to a memory of Hermione kicking his Arithmancy project's arse? Perhaps, but he didn't care.

She nodded, a small grin spreading on her lips. Hermione didn't fish for compliments, nor was she dependent on them. All the same, she loved being praised for her intellect. Draco could tell that she was desperately trying to keep her smile in check so as to maintain her strop about whatever it was that had her so naffed off.

"How?" He studied her. Her smile broke through from behind the grin, shining through her eyes, lighting up her entire face.

"Hard work and deductive reasoning."

He smiled, shook his head and looked up at her again in admiration. She was positively beaming. The anger was gone, he was sure of it. He wasn’t sure if he had to make something up to her as she hadn’t explained why she was so irritated earlier, but he’d do it anyway. Thanks to her, he'd be able to finish the project with time to spare.

"You're fucking brilliant, Granger."

She bit her bottom lip. He grabbed her upper arms to pull her down to sit in his lap and sighed. Gods, did her bum feel good on his erection. He moved her legs so that she straddled him, laced his hands through her curls, brought her face up to his and proceeded to snog her thoroughly. He was so lost in the feel of Hermione writhing on his lap, his tongue in her mouth and her responding to each movement of his fingers and lips that he didn't hear the shout until it was repeated and followed by a loud smack on the table in front of them. They both jumped and turned towards the disruptive noise.

The first thing that Draco noticed was how much the purple tint of the Weasel's skin clashed with his red hair.

"I said," Weasley shouted at him, "what the _fuck_ are you doing?" He slammed the table again for emphasis.

Draco's erection was gone now.

"Arithmancy," he sneered.

Hermione tried to get up from Draco's lap but he pulled her back down. There was no way he was going to let Weaselbee - _of all people_ \- tell him who he could and couldn't snog.

Draco watched the Weasel's eyes bulge even more. "Get your ruddy hands off her!"

Hermione tried to get up again. "Draco, wait. Let me-"

He pulled her back down.

Hermione. Was. _His_. The sodding wanker had better get used to it.

Ron stalked around to the other side of the table. "You fucking – "

"Ron, wait, I can…" she protested, while attempting to stand again.

In retrospect, Draco considered that if he hadn't been so intent on keeping Hermione where she was, he could have blocked the Weasel's punch. Draco's head snapped back violently. Strangely enough, he didn't feel any pain. But there was an annoying ringing in his ears followed by the even more irritating hysterical condemnations of Madam Pince. Their shouting had brought her to this section of the library.

He shook his head and realized that he was on the ground, but couldn't remember falling. Hermione was shouting at Ron, and admirably blocking him from any more of the Weasel's wrath. He was shouting back at her. Madam Pince was yammering about detentions and looking at him worriedly.

_Blimey, the Weasel had a strong right hook._

He felt his eyelids being pried open while he tried to focus on the blurred spectacles of Madam Pince, whose anxious face was hovering over him.

"Mister Malfoy," the librarian said and lightly smacked the side of his face, "how many fingers am I holding up?"

He gave a confused look at what appeared to be between two to four fingers and the world slowly went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last half of the epilogue coming soon! All loose ends will be tied up. Pun intended. ;)
> 
> If anyone has time, I love hearing your thoughts in the comment section.


	8. Epilogue (4 weeks later) - Part 2

"-can't believe you did that! Madam Pince, is he-" Hermione asked worriedly.

"You're cursed, Hermione, it's the potion!" Ron insisted, gesticulating wildly.

She gave an exasperated sigh. "I'm not _cursed_ , Ronald. I'm with him of my own volition."

She turned to the librarian, expecting a fight from Ron over her admission. "Is he alright?"

"You couldn't possibly be! He's _Malfoy!_ Think, Hermione!" he said as his index finger jabbed his temple for effect.

She raised her voice. "I'm not cursed. I took the antidote!" She turned worriedly to Draco. "Look what you did, Ron!"

Madam Pince, bent over Draco, started to answer. "He'll be fine, he's-"

"How do you know you're not cursed again?" Ron threw his hands into the air.

"Because I'm _not!_ " She stamped her foot in frustration. "I was completely aware that I was acting abnormally when I was cursed. For God's sake, I had to convince everyone _else_ that I was cursed!"

"So. What."

Hermione should have known that logic wouldn't work with Ron when he was this worked up. She threw her hands up and let out an exasperated sigh. Undaunted by her frustration, Ron continued in his attempts to convince her.

"Malfoy didn't get caught the first time, so he did it again! Maybe with a variation of the potion!"

Hermione closed her eyes and counted to ten. "It's. _Not._ Him," she said evenly, punctuating each word.

"Of course it is!" Ron countered, like it was an obvious fact.

"What motivation would he have?" she asked him disbelievingly, her voice taking on a shrill tone. She glanced down at Madam Pince, who was still checking on Draco.

"Madam Pince, is he-"

"How can you be so sure it wasn't him?"

_Oh for the love of…_

"Because I _am!_ It wasn't Draco!"

Ron stopped shouting abruptly at the ease in which she used Draco’s first name and looked at her strangely.

"You _know_ who it was."

Hermione closed her mouth and exhaled loudly through her nose, not wanting to confirm or deny his statement.

_When did he get so perceptive?_

"And you didn't tell us," he continued. “After all this time.”

She looked down at her feet, and then back up at Ron. He looked betrayed.

"I took care of it," she answered, trying to avoid his accusation.

"So then you and Malfoy…" Ron paled. He looked like he was going to throw up.

"I…"

How could she even _begin_ to explain? But she didn't have a chance as Ron was already storming out of the library.

 _Shit_.

She was losing her friend too, and for what? Good sex?

Madam Pince called out that Ron would be receiving numerous detentions and that the Headmistress would have a talk with him. Hermione turned back to Madam Pince, leaning over Draco on the floor.

"He's out cold, Miss Granger. I'm taking him to the infirmary so Poppy can check him for a concussion but this isn’t anything she can’t handle."

Madam Pince levitated Draco and proceeded to walk down to the infirmary, letting Hermione know just exactly how disappointed she was in her behavior and stressing that she should also report to the Headmistress. They would deal similarly with Draco when he was well enough. Hermione looked down the hall. She could follow Draco down to the infirmary, or head back to Gryffindor Tower to attempt to patch things up with Ron. Right now, as he was awake and very upset, Ron took priority.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

"Ron!" she called to him from down the hall, and jogged to catch up to his long strides. "Wait!"

She chased him up to Gryffindor Tower and jumped back as he slammed the portrait door shut. She banged the door open amidst some huffing from the Fat Lady who exclaimed, "Well, I never!"

"Ron! Will you just listen-"

Abruptly, he rounded on her yelling, "Who was it?"

The rest of the Gryffindors in the common area immediately stopped their conversations and activities, all eyes drawn to the scene in front of them. They were starved for gossip, now that the war was over, and this looked to be especially good. All eyes were on Hermione.

"I promised I wouldn't tell."

His eyes widened. "You _WHAT?_ "

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Lavender fidgeting on the couch. She didn't dare turn to face her, knowing she'd give Lavender away, tempting as it was.

_Bitch._

His bright blue eyes flashed at her. "Why _in the hell_ would you do that?"

Every head followed the verbal volley back and forth like the audience of a tennis match.

"Because I-"

"Yeah, yeah, you promised, I _got_ that. And now you're fucking _Malfoy_ -"

Gasps resounded across the common room.

"Ronald!" she yelled, mortified. "That's none of your-"

"I don't even fucking know who you _are_ anymore! Since when do we keep secrets from each other? After all we've been through? After all he's done? And now you're bloody shagging him?"

"Stop it, Ron," she pleaded. “Can we talk about this somewhere-“

"So you're protecting them because you can't get enough of Malfoy's dick?"

Gasps again, and a resounding smack as Ron's face jerked to the side. He pressed his hand to where she left a red handprint blooming on his cheek.

Hermione was livid, and she lowered her voice menacingly. "I don't care _how_ angry you are, Ronald Weasley. You don't talk to me that way. _Ever!_ "

Everyone was holding their breaths. Hermione thought she could hear someone munching on popcorn. A soft voice came out of the tense, silent common room.

"It was me," admitted Lavender.

More gasps, and all eyes traveled to the new participant in the live drama unfolding before them. Ron's eyes widened and he slowly turned to face Lavender.

" _You?_ "

She approached him, steadily, but fearfully, and assented. Ron studied her for a minute, narrowed his eyes, and nodded, seeming to understand why she would do such a thing.

"That's… disappointing."

He turned to walk out the door. With tears in her eyes, Lavender tried to follow him.

He turned back and answered, "We're through." The portrait door slammed behind him.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Later that day, Hermione tried in vain to find Ron. It was difficult since she was also doing her best to avoid everyone else and their staring, judgments and questions that she didn't want to answer. Then again, he would also want to be away from people, and so the places that she would go to be alone might coincide with his.

She was sad, and hurt. But at the same time, she felt an immense relief that her fling with Draco was out in the open. She hated going behind her friends’ backs. Even now that one of her closest relationships was crumbling around her, she felt strangely liberated. Her worst fears had been realized and it couldn't get any worse… she hoped.

Hermione and Draco had been seen together on various occasions doing schoolwork together, and so it was general knowledge that they had a working relationship in some form. Harry, Ron and Ginny teased her about putting up with his ferrety presence, oblivious to Lavender's knowing smirk. So long as she never countered the disdain her friends felt towards Draco, they seemed to reluctantly accept that she had a new study partner. They could tolerate her working with him, but she wasn't sure that they could tolerate her liking him, even in a platonic fashion. Now she knew for certain that Ron couldn't. She hadn't stayed long enough to gauge Harry and Ginny's reactions.

She would have preferred to tell her friends about her affair in good time and with a certain amount of preparation to soften them up (in the form of chocolate frogs, and a new Wizarding Chess set, and maybe tickets to the Quidditch World Cup). Until recently, she was actually planning on telling them. That was before she felt misgivings about her feelings for Draco, whether or not she could trust him because of how unsettling the beginning of their sexual relationship was, and his lack of feelings towards her. In the past few days, she considered ending the whole thing, thus making the revelation to her friends a moot point. The only mention the whole fiasco should have merited would be in a drunken admission two years from now. She’d have a laugh in a pub long after her feelings would have subsided.

Now, the proverbial shit that hit the fan and had to be dealt with. But she couldn't find Ron, and Harry and Ginny were most likely surrounded by people, and therefore couldn't be approached. Feeling guilty about Draco's injury, she plodded towards the infirmary, doing so under the guise of a Disillusionment Charm to avoid talking to people. Quietly approaching his bed, she looked down. The git was still unconscious, and she could see where Madam Pomfrey had healed his bruised eye. She looked down at him and involuntarily reached out to stroke his hair. Her hand paused in midair.

Much as she wanted to, much as she loved to, she shouldn't touch him. He didn't want her in the same way and she didn’t trust him with her feelings.He was a player. She had to let him go. No more sex, no more homework, no more teasing, no more games, no more post-coital conversations. She wouldn't be rude to him, she'd be cordial, but that would be it. She wasn't going to chase after someone who didn't want to be caught.

She sighed. Well, she should at least write him a note seeing as he got punched by _her_ friend, in a fight over _her_.

Looking around to be sure that she was alone, she grabbed a paper and quill from Pomfrey's desk and scratched a quick note saying that he should know better than to let someone besides her smack him around. She smiled at the thought of his reaction when he would read it and was about to write something else when the smile froze on her face.

No more of this. Her stomach clenched and she felt her eyes sting as tears started to form.

_Damn._

She was crying over Draco _Fucking_ Malfoy.

She crumpled up the note in anger and threw it in the trash. She then scrawled out a quick apology and said that she hoped that he would feel better. She pondered over whether she should write that they needed to talk. Would he even consider what they had worth talking about? If he moved on to shagging someone else, would he talk to her about it before he dropped her? Or would he expect her to get the hint if he rebuffed her advances, albeit in that charming Malfoy way?

 _It would be the latter_ , she decided. Casual sex didn't constitute a relationship and therefore didn't merit being talked over. From her observance of Pansy's dejected and angry behavior around Draco before she stopped hanging around him, Hermione could surmise that he didn't see fit to inform Pansy when he dropped her. He may not be a bigoted prick anymore but he was still a prick.

She wiped her eyes and steeled herself. She was definitely doing the right thing. It was only a matter of time. Best that it be her to end it now, then for him to do it later.

Speaking of rejection, she wondered how Lavender was faring. Watching Lavender being humiliated in front of their entire house had made her feel guilty for indulging in revenge fantasies earlier. How quickly everything had turned around again. Instead of Lavender having everything and her having nothing, it looked like they were both at rock bottom.

Misery and company.

She placed her note down by Draco's bed stand and tenderly stroked his hair and jaw, brushing the pad of her thumb over his skin. She sighed. No more. Recasting her Disillusionment Charm, she headed back to Gryffindor Tower and walked into Lavender's dorm, which to her surprise was full of piles of folded and unfolded clothes and several trunks.

"You're leaving?" Hermione asked, shocked.

Lavender looked up at her, eyes red and swollen from crying.

"Yeah, I'm starting an apprenticeship in Belgium next week."

"I- _what?_ " That was the last thing she expected Lavender to say. "In what?"

She smiled at Hermione and rubbed her nose. "I want to be a Healer… maybe."

Hermione's eyebrows rose. "I thought you were into Divination."

"Kind of. Pad and Pav were always more keen on Divination than I was. I don't know. I don't really know _what_ I like anymore. I might as well give this a shot."

Hermione sat down on Lavender's bed, still surprised.

"It's so sudden. When did you set this up?"

Lavender bustled around her room. "I applied to several apprenticeships before the war because McGonagall wouldn't stop pestering me. Randomly, really. And this was one of them. I didn't intend to go. I just assumed that I'd do whatever Pad and Pav were doing," she smiled weakly at Hermione. "Or Ron. As it turns out, I got accepted to a few. But the one in Belgium starts in the middle of the school year. I'm starting to think that my break-up with Ron was a blessing in disguise. I need to learn to be more self-reliant."

Hermione nodded her approval. "Build a backbone." She smoothed out a few wrinkles in the duvet. Now that Lavender had lost Ron, most of her friends, and her reputation, Hermione wanted to help her.

"Don't you think that you're being too hasty? Ron just needs time to cool off. He's always been that way. Maybe finish out the school year? See if you can't patch things up? You could try another apprenticeship that starts at the end of the school year instead."

Even as she was suggesting it, she knew that it wouldn't happen. What Lavender did was pretty despicable. Hermione could forgive her, especially after seeing her reduced to this state, but she knew that Ron wouldn't.

Lavender gave her a condescending look. "How pathetic would I be to want to continue in a relationship with someone that loved somebody else?"

Hermione answered quickly, "That's ridiculous; I thought we'd already covered that."

Lavender smiled and shook her head. " _We_ did."

Hermione stared at Lavender, not wanting to get into an argument, and then started to help her fold her clothes.

"Are you excited?"

Lavender let out a short laugh. "I'm scared shitless. I may be a Gryffindor, but I'm not such a brave person." She glanced up at Hermione. "Not like you. You do whatever you want; you don't care what anyone else is doing." She looked pensive. "You know, the only reason I came back for this final year was because of Ron."

Hermione helped her fold some of the clothes with a swish of her wand. "Do you know anyone there?"

"Nope. I- thanks." Lavender took the folded clothes and placed them in her trunk. "I'll have to polish up my French as well."

"Well,” Hermione paused and gave her a steady look, “it certainly seems to me that you got sorted into the right house.”

Lavender looked up at her in surprise and shock. “Thank you.”

Hermione nodded and gave her a small smile. “So when are you going?"

Lavender swished her wand and the folded clothes were whisked into another case. "This evening," she said, "to avoid having to deal with everyone. They all hate me now."

She gave a short laugh and sniffed.

"So," she said, her tone changed to teasing, "tell me how things are with Draco?"

Hermione's face fell, she couldn’t hide her sadness and disappointment. Lavender's eyes widened. "But I thought-"

Hermione shrugged. "He's not the kind to want a serious relationship."

Lavenders eyebrows rose. "Is that what you want?"

Hermione nodded. It felt good to confide in someone.

A crooked grin broke out on Lavender's face. Her mouth spasmed as she tried to prevent her involuntary smile from forming completely. She finally formed a serious expression to replace it, with effort.

"Sorry, but I still half-hate you," Lavender confessed.

Hermione laughed. Guffawed, even. Well, they had that in common.

Lavender flashed a set of white teeth. "Schadenfreude."

"Using big words now?" Hermione quipped.

"Yes, but they make my head hurt."

Hermione sniggered.

Lavender looked up at her. "Can you do me a favor and square things away with the professors? I'll do it by owl more officially later. I just don't think that anyone else would be willing to do it for me."

Hermione was surprised, but answered, "Of course. But what about Padma and Parvati?"

Lavender snapped her trunk shut. "They were just up here. They're disappointed, and it was a bit… weird. I deserve that. We’re meeting at the Three Broomsticks tomorrow night though so I guess they don’t want to throw seven years of friendship out the window. But I don't feel comfortable asking them for favors now. "

Hermione laughed. "But you feel comfortable asking me?"

Lavender smiled. "You understand. They don't."

The two stared at each other in silence.

Lavender looked a bit unsure of herself. "Um, do you want to come out with us tomorrow night?"

Hermione's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Sure," she answered, and frowned at Lavender. She seemed a little _too_ mentally prepared to be picking up and leaving for Belgium. She couldn't have decided to go just in the last few hours.

"You've been thinking about this for a while haven't you? You couldn't have decided to up and leave today. When did you start seriously considering the apprenticeship?"

Lavender gave her a smirk worthy of Draco. "Ever since I Petrified you."

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Cursing herself for her lack of self-control, Hermione returned to the infirmary. Thankfully, Draco was already gone, saving herself from having to talk to him. She was torn between seeking him out to see how he was, and purposely not looking for him. Trying to decide what the proper course of action was, she chose avoidance. Harry and Ginny had said earlier that Ron may be out flying, the one place she wouldn't dare try and find him. She went to Quidditch pitch to see if there was a chance in hell that Ron would come down and talk to her.

In any event, it was a nice evening and it would be nice to get some fresh air. When she entered the pitch, she saw that Harry and Ginny were still up in the stands, watching the sun set, and went up to join them.

Bit by bit, she filled them in on everything that had happened, save the more raunchy details. She didn't want to know the ins and outs, so to speak, of _their_ sex lives, and assumed they felt similarly.

Harry exhaled, "So, Malfoy, is it?"

Hermione answered, "Mm hmm."

Ginny looked thoughtful. "That's… inspiring."

"What's that?" Harry turned to her.

"Just put aside your pissing contest and think about it." Ginny gave him a look, and continued gesturing in the air.

"Malfoy is a pure-blood poster boy. His father was a Death Eater." She raised her index finger. " _He_ was a Death Eater, and Hermione is one of the more famous Muggle-borns in wizarding England right now. If the two of _them_ being together doesn't prove to you that the world is a better place from the war that we all fought," she paused for effect, "then what does?"

Harry grumbled something unintelligibly in the direction of his shoes.

"What's that?" Ginny asked pointedly.

"You're right, you're right," Harry agreed reluctantly. He then turned to Hermione. "But did it have to be Malfoy?"

Hermione sighed. "We're not even really together. No need to wax philosophic on what's just a short affair."

Harry snorted. "One can only hope."

She didn't want to talk about him anymore. She was done with him. Instead, she described Lavender's plans for Belgium.

"Good riddance," Ginny spat venomously, "I can't _believe_ we were friends. You were right about her Hermione, you know? I should have trusted your instincts."

Hermione shook her head in disagreement. "No, actually, I wasn't. I didn't like her for other reasons. I never thought her willing or capable of pulling a stunt like that. You were right about me not giving her a chance."

"She's petty and vindictive," Harry argued, "and you can't trust her."

"No," Hermione said slowly, "you can't trust her. But we can't pretend that we're any better. We've all made mistakes, haven't we?"

Harry gave her a look of disbelief. "Nothing we've done even comes close-"

"Holding Rita Skeeter in a jar?" Hermione interjected. "That was kidnapping and blackmail."

Harry's face darkened. "She deserved it, and you had to so that-"

"Marietta Edgecomb still has scars," Hermione interrupted him. “I could have done something less painful and disfiguring.”

"Deserved it," Harry answered with clenched teeth. Ginny nodded her agreement.

Hermione gave Harry a look and lowered her voice, "Draco still has scars."

Harry's face went gray.

Ginny looked at him in surprise, "What?"

"I didn't think it would…" His voice trailed off as he realized he had made Hermione's point for her and lost the argument.

"And neither did Lavender," Hermione finished. “She didn’t think it through.”

Harry nodded and looked down to his feet.

"Aside from the embarrassment she caused you, you could have seriously hurt someone," Ginny pressed, unwilling to let Lavender off the hook. "Ron was right to dump her. After what she did to you, who knows what she would have done to him?"

She looked disgusted with both Harry and Hermione.

Harry peered up at her, "I almost killed Malfoy sixth year."

Ginny's eyes widened. "What?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I don’t know why I never told you. It's not like I meant to hide it or anything, but it's not exactly a topic you bring up while eating your Mum's bread pudding, you know?"

"Surely you don't mean 'killed,'" Ginny protested.

Harry turned to her. "If Snape wouldn't have been there, Malfoy would have died."

He stood up and took her hand. "Come on, Ginevra, I'll tell you about it on the way back to the castle."

They started down the stairs.

"Are you coming, Hermione?" Harry asked.

She shook her head, "No, I'll wait for Ron to come down."

Ginny paused halfway down the stands and turned around. "Don't bother waiting for Ron. He needs a long time to cool off."

"Yeah," Hermione replied sadly.

Harry tugged on her hand and Ginny pulled away, irritated.

"You're my friend and I won't forgive her for what she's done to you. I don't _care_ how you and Harry are rationalizing this away, and I don't _care_ what kind of sob story she has."

"Ginny-" Harry tried to calm her down but was interrupted.

"Even if she didn't mean for anyone to get hurt, she meant to humiliate you. Even if she didn't understand the full extent of what the potion would do. And for that, she can go fuck herself."

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh and then smiled. You can't win them all, but Ginny's loyalty felt good, and Harry was still her friend. She felt more optimistic about her prospects for repairing her relationship with Ron.

As they walked away, she listened to their footsteps echo down the bleachers and watched the twilight turn into night.

Ronald Bilius Weasley.

They'd been in fights before. But they'd also been much closer than they were now. Their relationship was a bit more distant since they had that infamous talk. Was this the same kind of fight? How would she handle him?

She thought about the situation. Ron had always hated Draco. Hated his whole family. The feeling was mutual and extended to their parents’ generation and possibly even before that. They were rivals in school, in Quidditch, and in society due to their different backgrounds and monetary resources. They were on different sides of the war, and after the Malfoys had defected, Ron had resented them regaining their high status after receiving what amounted to a slap on the wrist for all prior illegal activities.

They had different friends, different houses, different worlds, and now Draco was encroaching on Ron's domain. Yes, Draco was essentially walking where Ron had peed. She rolled her eyes.

All this really boiled down to was penises.

She had a nagging thought in the back of her head that according to her theory, Harry should have acted the same. Both Ron and Harry could be incredibly irrational at times, especially in regards to the Malfoy family. But in this case, Harry's reaction was much more subdued. Then again, it wasn't _his_ girlfriend who had made the _Lustfarae_ potion. And it wasn't Harry who had walked in on a snogging session. Furthermore, Harry might have mixed feelings about the Malfoys as a whole since he almost killed Draco and Narcissa had saved his life.

Confident that she had a sufficient understanding of the situation, Hermione knew that she could calm Ron down and they'd be friends again. Maybe not tonight, but eventually. Especially if she told him that she was ending her tryst. She sat staring at the stars for a bit more, and tried to see if she could catch a glimpse of him flying. But it was too dark. She waited some more and almost laughed about how despondent she was earlier. She'd get Ron back. And things would be as they always were.

It was unfortunate about Draco, but that was life. You can't always get what you want. It was best to end it early. She felt her sadness return at the thought of him. As she stood up to leave and turned towards the exit of the bleachers, a rush of air ruffled her hair as a rider on a broom sped past her. She watched Ron's silhouette land a few rows away and approach her.

She stared at him, unsure of what to say.

"Can I sit?" he asked.

"No," she said. "This seat's taken."

"Heh." He chuckled mirthlessly as he sat down next to her, resting his arms on his knees and staring at his hands.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Look Ron, I'm sorry. I really am. Lavender and I had _just_ started becoming friends, and I didn't want to ruin it, and I know that it was wrong to keep it from all of you, especially from you, but I-"

"Why not me, Hermione?"

All the blood rushed to her face.

"What?" she said, hoping she had heard wrong.

His voice sounded like his chest was aching. "What's wrong with me? Why couldn't _we_ have worked out?"

Her lips parted, and she wished she was anywhere in the world but here.

Lavender was right again.

"Ron, we've already had this conversation, I _do_ love you, but I love you-"

He cut her off. "Yeah, like a brother. I know."

She turned to him; he was still staring at his hands. "I'm sorry, Ron."

He dismissed her with a wave of his arm. "Don't apologize."

Neither of them said anything for a few minutes, and the silence was awkwardly tense. She wondered if things between them could ever be the same again. If she were honest with herself, she would be able to admit that she and Ron hadn't been the same ever since the first time they'd had this conversation, last summer after the war. At the time, she had blamed their distancing on his relationship with Lavender.

Well, at least it couldn't get any worse.

His voice cut through the quiet. "Why Malfoy?"

She was wrong.

His voice rose. "What does he have that I don't? Besides money and being a right bastard?"

She thought this would be the wrong moment to point out that Draco most certainly wasn't the only bastard in the near vicinity.

"Ron, don't do this to yourself."

He exhaled and ran a hand through his wavy red hair.

The two of them sat on the stands in the starlight. She wanted to comfort him, but didn't feel that it was her place now. Comfort shouldn't come from her anymore. Not when he felt this way about her and she didn’t return it.

"It hurts, Hermione, it really does."

"I know."

"No," he said as he turned to her, "you don't."

"Would it really be any better if I was with someone like Neville or Seamus?"

He studied her. "Yes. At least then I'd know that I'd lost you to a person that…" He shook his head, disgusted.

She opened her mouth to apologize, but closed it. She just didn't know what to say.

He clenched his hands, "If I could just show you…"

He took her hands in his. She looked down at his masculine fingers prodding her smaller ones. As friends, they should be able to physically touch, but it just didn't feel comfortable anymore, none of it.

She looked up at him and almost jumped back from the intensity in his bright blue eyes.

"Let me kiss you."

Panicked, Hermione looked at his mouth, and then into his eyes again, which were desperate with longing for her. Any girl would be thrilled to be on the other end of that gaze, but she just wanted to crawl out of her skin.

"Ronald, I-"

And he was there. He was everywhere; his hands cupping her face, fingers threading into her hair, and his mouth pressing against hers. He was hungry. He was needy. His mouth was warm and soft, and his fingers clutched at her. It was his last chance to show her everything that he felt for her and he was trying to win her over with this kiss. She didn't want to encourage him, but at the same time, she didn't want him to think that he hadn't given it his all and that this attempt should be repeated.

She responded weakly, and opened her mouth, causing a tidal wave of his _need_ to wash over her. The strength of his passion brought tears to her eyes because she knew it was utterly wasted on her. He pressed against her, kissing her with everything he had. He was a good kisser, a great kisser. But that didn't take away from how very _wrong_ all of this felt.

Slowly, he pulled away from her, his breath hot against her mouth, and pressed his forehead to hers. He gripped her upper arms as he raised his head to stare at her, to judge her reaction. He panted with the exertion of his kiss, and the excitement that he felt.

If only she could accept what he was offering her. She closed her eyes so that her tears wouldn't fall and embarrass him, and shook her head slowly.

He abruptly let her arms go and turned away.

"Bugger!" he shouted into the night, his voice echoing over the pitch.

He held his head in his hands. Hermione watched him, not knowing what else she could do, and just waited for his breathing to slow down. She wanted to hug him, but was afraid he'd take the gesture the wrong way.

She didn’t know what to do.

His voice came, strained, from between his hands. "Why not me?"

His hurt made her heart ache for him. "It won't work, Ron."

"What if you would change your mind-"

"I won't," she said, trying to make her shaking voice sound firm. "We gave it shot, remember? We tried. You have to move on."

Ron stood up and looked down at her, his blue eyes glistening in the moonlight.

"I… I don't think I can do this. I can't keep being around you and feeling this way."

Her stomach dropped.

God. Was this it? Was this the end of their friendship? She hoped that it wouldn't stay this awkward between them forever. Could they still be friends tomorrow? Next week? Next month? She choked back a sob and suppressed the need to cry. She didn’t know how to fix this.

Hermione looked back at him, wishing that she could say or do something to bring things back to how they were before, but she had to respect his way of coping and protecting himself. Even so, she couldn't bear the thought of them not being friends anymore. She made to reach out to him, and then stopped herself.

"Can't we just…"

Ron shook his head.

"Hurts too much." He turned to go and then paused as if he was going to say something.

His voice became husky. "I'll always love you."

She felt tears forming and struggled to keep them in. They fought a troll together. He had sacrificed himself in a Wizarding chess game for her and Harry. They fought together in the Department of Mysteries. They fought Death Eaters in Hogwarts. They hunted for Horcruxes together and they fought side by side during the Second Wizarding War.

"Me too," she whispered.

Ron continued to stare at her for a few minutes more, as if reassuring himself that he had done everything that he possibly could. His blue eyes glittered in the starlight, and their intensity chilled her to the bone. She shivered. He gave her a half smile, mounted his broom and kicked off. Hermione watched him disappear into the darkness, and an empty feeling spread in the pit of her stomach. She sighed and stared up into the night, and felt the warm tears she had been holding back leak out of her eyes, leaving trails down her cheeks. The best thing she could do with Ron was to let him go. Maybe he would come around, eventually. Things would be strained for a while, she guessed. They had mutual friends, so they would still see each other. Or maybe they wouldn't, if he decided to go out of his way to avoid her. It felt hopeless.

She started to climb down the stands, feeling slightly sick to her stomach. She'd lost Ron, and she'd never really had Draco.

Stupid, fucking _men_.

At least she still had Harry and Ginny. Maybe if she had handled this whole thing differently, they would be okay. If only she had been more careful about her dalliances with Draco, Ron wouldn't have had to find out in such a harsh way. Over time, maybe he would have come to love Lavender as much as he did her, perhaps even more so. She shook her head. Would've, could've, should've… this was the situation now, and it was heartbreaking.

Hermione ducked under the guard rail of the last stand and climbed down the ladder.

She smiled grimly at her self-imposed ignorance. She had been naïve to think that they could stay friends after all that had happened between them. Feelings that strong don't disappear so quickly – or so simply. Look at how upset she was over Draco, and what she felt for him wasn't nearly as strong and complex as what Ron felt for her. Ron had really fallen hard. He had pined for her, even while he was with Lavender, who was only serving as a distraction.

And Lavender _knew the whole time_. She shook her head in disbelief. No wonder Lavender hated her.

Hermione jumped down from the last rung. Her feet hit the grass with a soft thud, next to a much larger pair of feet. She startled, and gave a yelp of surprise.

"Hermione."

Blond hair and gray eyes glinted in the moonlight. Draco was leaning against the bleachers' support pillar, hands in his trouser pockets.

Men were like food. Anything looking _that_ good was bad for you. He was a player.

He looked agitated, and his eyes were pained. How long had he been here? Could he hear from down here? Sadly, she realized it didn't matter anyway.

"Oh, hi." Seeing him made her want to cry all over again. “How’s your head?”

"It’s fine now. You were angry earlier and…” He looked as if he were choosing between several different things to say. “I thought you’d want to talk about what happened in the library."

Hermione tried to inconspicuously wipe away her tears. He raised his eyebrows slightly and his voice turned soft. "You're crying over the Weasel?"

"Also," she answered, looking at the ground next to his shoes.

"Even though you don't love him?” His eyebrows came together and he exhaled sharply. He cupped her chin in his hand and turned her face up to look at him. "Fuck. I don't care if it was a pity kiss. Don't go snogging other people, okay? Especially _him_."

So he _had_ seen. And heard.

Her unrequited feelings for Draco caused a flare of belligerence.

"Why do you care who else I snog?" she asked flippantly.

His gray eyes studied her hazel ones, and his hand dropped from her face. She could tell he was choosing his words carefully. "I had assumed we weren’t seeing other people. Did I assume wrongly?”

She didn’t blink and used his tactic of answering a question with a question. “Are we even seeing _each other_?”

Draco’s lips formed a thin line. She could tell her question made him nervous. They hadn’t talked about the status of their relationship, whatever it was, since she asked him what they were four weeks ago. He was reluctant then to talk about it, and he was reluctant now, which didn’t bode well. Was he nervous because he wanted to continue fucking her without attachment or was he nervous because he wanted something more, like she did? He could hear the ultimatum in her voice and took a few measured breaths before answering.

“Do you want something more?”

There it was. The Slytherin had completely avoided her ultimatum and placed the onus of admitting to feelings, or the lack thereof, on her.

Her heart pounded against her ribcage and her stomach fluttered with nervous excitement. If she admitted that she did, would he string her along until the novelty of fucking her wore off? Now that they’ve spent so much time together, did she even trust him with her feelings? Their whole relationship started because he took advantage of her while she was under the influence of _Lustfarae_ and that made her extremely uneasy. His grey eyes glittered while he watched her mull over her answer. She didn’t know the answers to anything. And yet, despite their rocky start, he was always honest with her, wasn’t he?

She summoned her courage. If she could face Bellatrix, she could face her smirking nephew.

“We should go on a date.”

Draco stared at her and let out the breath he was holding. A slow smile gradually graced his features, and moved closer to encase her in his arms. He wanted more too!

"We should," he agreed, looking down at her more happy than she could ever remember seeing him. "We need a little more variety than homework and sex in the library."

"And broom closets." She felt like singing and couldn’t keep the smile from her face.

Rolling his 'L', he said, "Locker room."

Hermione flushed at the memory and Draco squeezed her bum roughly. Clearly more confident with this form of communication.

"Fourth floor alcove," she countered.

"Oohhh." His lips pursed and his fingers probed the skin of her stomach between the bottom of her blouse and top of her skirt. He looked down at her chest and then met her eyes again.

With a sultry voice, he said, "Empty transfiguration classroom."

She gulped and he grinned wolfishly down at her. He had been downright scary that time. Hermione's skin was tingling as his fingers explored higher, under her shirt, teasing her.

She looked at him devilishly. "Astronomy tower."

Draco chuckled and dug his fingers into her skin. " _That_ was a true display of deviance, Granger. Even by your standards."

"Maybe my standards have changed," she purred.

Draco fingered a wave of her hair and looked down at her with hooded eyes.

"Do your friends know how evil you are?"

He reached down and laced his fingers through hers. It was so much better knowing that he did, indeed, harbor feelings for her.

_All that needless frustration!_

She punched his arm. "Why didn't you _say_ anything? I thought you just wanted me as a fuck buddy."

"Ow!" He rubbed his bicep and looked down at her. "I did!"

She punched him again. "Ow!"

He glared at her in warning.

"I could feel what was growing between us," he raised an eyebrow suggestively at his innuendo. “I thought we were heading in a more serious direction. We’ve had some fascinating conversations in the library. I thoroughly enjoy your company." His eyes crinkled in amusement. “And the sex is okay.”

She laughed.

“Yes,” she agreed jokingly. “The sex is adequate.”

"I didn't want to push my luck. I was afraid I’d scare you off,” he said with a shy half-smile. “Sometimes I still can't believe you even talk to me."

She couldn't keep her grin from spreading from ear to ear and she felt a gentle warmth in her chest.

_Slytherin._

"Eh, you're tolerable," she quipped, trying and failing to show that she absolutely wasn’t affected by his demeanor. He had such a way with words.

"Good to know you're able to suffer my presence," Draco answered dryly, still with a smile. "Why didn't _you_ say anything if it bothered you so much?"

She furrowed her brow. "Well, it all seems really stupid now, doesn't it?"

"Or maybe it's just you that's stu–" He caught her hand and twisted it behind her back before she could land a third punch on his arm.

"Not this time, Granger." He glowered threateningly over her. "Are you looking for trouble?"

Hermione answered coyly, "I wouldn't be with you if I wasn't." Her playful expression turned serious. "I saw how you treated Pansy. She was really hurt. I’m not her friend but even I could see that. I didn’t want to put myself in that position."

He looked taken aback, "But Pansy was just some fun."

She stared at him pointedly, "Did _she_ know that?"

He narrowed his eyes at her, "She should have, I never asked anything of her."

"And yet she hoped," Hermione pressed him.

"Possibly."

"Possibly?"

"Hermione,” he reached to draw her into an embrace. “She's not you." The length of his body closed in on her and she felt encased by his heat.

Hermione looked up at him skeptically and his eyes gleamed devilishly. He was positively dripping with that Slytherin charm.

He cracked a smile and lowered his head to kiss her. "Jealous?"

“No,” Hermione whispered. “But you led her on.”

His head paused in its descent, slightly uncomfortable with where the topic was heading. “I never lied to her.”

“There’s a world of difference between simply not lying and actually being honest.”

He smirked and leaned down further to brush her lips with his and tightened his embrace. “Reading the Slytherin handbook, I see?”

What did she expect? This was part of Draco’s allure. He was Slytherin’s Sex God. He was a complete and utter git. Devious. Manipulative. An insufferable prat. Dangerous. The Resident Bad Boy corrupting Gryffindor’s Princess and every other sexy cliché that came to mind. In a word, he was trouble, and didn’t she just say that’s what she was looking for?

He could charm his way into the knickers of nearly any female and he had charmed his way into hers despite having used unethical tactics in which to do so. And now, he had captured her feelings as well. They had chemistry, both intellectual and sexual, and they connected on a deeper level, a connection they had been tentatively exploring over the past few weeks. But that didn’t change the fact that Draco Malfoy had more red flags than the Gryffindor stands at a Quidditch match. While she didn’t let that bother her when they were just fooling around, they would become important for a meaningful relationship.

She steadied herself, not wanting his hot breath on her mouth or the budding coil of her desire to distract her.

“Did you ever make it clear that you weren’t interested? Or did you just enjoy the benefits of her thinking that you were?”

His lips turned down and his voice lowered as his head backed away from hers. “Why do _you_ care so much?”

While Draco’s voice lowered when his temper rose, Hermione’s voice increased in volume.

“Because I want to know what I’m getting into!”

His nostrils flared and she felt the muscles of his arms clench around her. This wasn’t playful anger anymore. It was real.

“I’m not one of your sodding Gryffindors, Granger,” he said icily. “What _exactly_ is it that you think you’re getting into?”

“I don’t know!” her voice rose and she broke away from him. All her fears and worries about him and their relationship started bubbled to the surface. “You had sex with me at a time when I couldn’t say no!”

He winced.

“Twice!”

“But you enjoyed it.”

“Of course I did!” she cried, gaining steam. “Does it make what you did any less wrong?”

His brows furrowed, clearly conflicted and he reached out to draw her close again. “Yes. Because I didn’t force you. I knew you wanted me. I knew you would want-“

She had all this uncertainty about him, how he felt about her and whether or not she could trust him with her feelings; but couldn’t quite find the words to specifically name the reason as to why. And then it hit her. She put a name to what had been bothering her all along.

“ _Lustfarae_ is a rape drug, Draco.”

She said it. She defined it. She couldn’t take it back now and it felt like a huge weight was removed from her shoulders.

He blanched, his hand dropped like lead, and she saw him struggle to swallow. “Yes it is,” his voice caught in his throat. “But you’re happy with how things turned out now. I may have taken advantage, but I didn’t rape-“

“Yes, I’m happy with how things turned out. And yet,” she continued relentlessly, “you pushed me when I said ‘no’, until I couldn’t say ‘no’ anymore. Because I was under the influence of a rape drug. What else would you call it?”

He staggered back a step, opened his mouth, but had nothing to say and closed it. Clearly he was troubled by her reasoning, and visibly upset. He looked to the side and then down directly at her. His voice lifted, taking on a tone she had never heard before from him. “I’m sorry.”

She studied him. It was these rare moments of honest vulnerability that showed his potential and encouraged her to overlook his treatment of women. She reached out to lace her fingers in his. He looked down at their hands, confused. “You still… want me?”

She pulled him closer and he instinctually wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on top of her hair. “Very much so,” she spoke into his chest.

She felt him sigh in relief and breathe steadily for a few minutes, deep in thought.

“Merlin, Granger,” His voice sounded raw. “We haven’t even gone on a date yet. Is this what it takes to be with you?”

She sighed and listened to his heartbeat. “I raped you too, you know. That time in the library. You were also affected by Lavender’s prank.”

“You didn’t know what you were doing.” His voice rumbled in his chest against her cheek. “I did.”

She nodded silently in agreement, enjoying the feeling of his embrace and relieved that he was now bothered by the rocky start of their relationship as much as she was.

“Hermione?” His voice became husky.

“Mmm?”

He tipped her chin up with his fingers, and brushed her lips with his thumb. She felt her heart pounding against her ribcage and looked up into his eyes pensively.

“Why didn’t you say anything after all this time?”

She thought about her answer. "I was still coming to terms with it myself. It was confusing because after the fact, I wasn’t sorry it happened. Any of it. And I wanted you. And I enjoyed it. But none of that changed the nature of what your actions were. And…” She bit her lip and looked to the side. He turned her face back so he could meet her gaze.

“And?” he prodded her gently.

“I guess I was scared to bring it up," she whispered. “And scared of what that meant about how I feel for you.”

Draco jerked his head back, looked at her incredulously, and burst out laughing.

Hermione couldn't help but smile, his laughter was infectious, and broke the somber mood between them.

"What?"

"Scared?" Draco repeated in disbelief. "You're Hermione _fucking_ Granger!"

She blushed under his admiration and felt another wave of happiness and relief wash over her. He lightly dragged his thumbs along the skin of her upper arms, making her tingle up and down and she shivered. She loved the feel of his desire and felt more secure in how he felt about her, and the potential of a serious relationship with him.

"So," he gave her an evil grin, "you're scared of me?"

She dismissed his claim. "Not in this lifetime. I know where you're ticklish."

He was hiding a smile. "A simple counter spell takes care of that."

"Oh? Did you get that to work?" She tried to sound nonchalant.

_Bollocks!_

He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her in close.

"Don't worry, I'll take it easy on you."

She snorted. He would do no such thing.

He continued, "I'll even let you decide where we go for our first date, since my impending victory has me feeling generous."

"You're on borrowed time, you know." She would find a way to counter his… counter-spell.

"Maybe so, but I'll enjoy it."

Hermione smiled as the butterflies in her stomach abounded, and she turned to face him.

"Lavender is leaving Hogwarts. We're meeting at the Three Broomsticks to say good-bye tomorrow. You should come, and we'll stay afterwards, just the two of us."

"Lavender, yeah,” Draco grinned. “I still owe her a box of chocolates."

**\------------------fin-----------------------**

**Some notes about this fic:**

I love Dramione. And while fanfiction gives authors an outlet to explore different interpretations of the Harry Potter characters, over the years I’ve seen some tropes appear in fanfics that are completely out of character. As such, I tried to upend a lot of them in this story.

  1. Ron-bashing: yeah I get it. Hermione is seriously lowering her standards in the books by mooning after him and the epilogue is cringe inducing. However, although Ron makes plenty of mistakes, he has plenty of redeeming qualities. Writing him as an idiot or terrible person in order to leave room for Draco to swoop in is just lazy writing.
  2. Hermione is the embodiment of naivety and good: Alright I know where this comes from. Draco’s the big bad and she’s the yin to his yang and that means she is pure and good and naive, always trying to do the right thing, looking for the best in everyone and oh so trusting. Except she is not. She’s vindictive, emotionally intelligent, suspicious and careful, and downright Machiavellian. Every time I hear “for someone so intelligent you sure are stupid” I want to pull my hair out. No. She was on to you for weeks and that’s why you’re trapped in a jar and being blackmailed.
  3. Draco is an asshole and Hermione puts up with it: Except that no, she wouldn’t. She didn’t take shit from anyone. When Ron was a jerk she made him suffer for it emotionally and physically until he apologized and/or learned his lesson (epilogue notwithstanding, but I don’t think the epilogue aligns with either Ron or Hermione’s characters).
  4. Lavender-bashing: usually comes in the form of slut-shaming which I hate or air head shaming. And of course if Ron is interested in her then that means he’s an idiot as well. See point number 1. I prefer complex characters.
  5. Hermione as a shy virgin/prude/passive: She might be a virgin, she might not. But after going through a war I highly doubt it. Shy? Doubtful. Passive? No way. At what point in any of the 7 books do we get the impression that Hermione is shy or passive about anything? See point 2 for clarification.
  6. Mary Sue/Marty Stu: Hermione and Draco aren’t perfect, they’re flawed and make mistakes. It’s okay for Hermione to do something wrong and unethical, and it’s okay for Draco to be vulnerable and unsure. She doesn’t always have to make the right choices and he doesn’t always have to be the all-knowing, always sure of himself Slytherin.
  7. Draco as a good guy: In order for Hermione to fall in love with him and, at the same time, not be stupid for knowingly entering into a relationship with someone that will eventually treat her poorly, he would actually have to be a good person. But to align with what makes Dramione so much fun, he's given a superficial veneer of bad-boy/insufferable prat instead of him _actually_ being a jerk. Except Draco is not a good guy. So what does that mean in terms of her accepting him and how does that relationship work? Which leads to point 8.
  8. Draco vs the #metoo movement: I’m a fan of Dub-con. It’s hot. Ravishment fantasies are erotic and that’s a major reason that I read Dramione in the first place. That being said, I’ve seen that in order to align with the lessons in the #metoo movement, recent fics are overly focused on obtaining consent which although can be done well, sometimes defeats the purpose of Dramione in the first place. Authors usually deal with dub-con in two ways: either Hermione ignores the dub-con, much like society did/does, and falls in love/admits to enjoying the sex anyway; or Draco turns out to be a perfect intersectional feminist always seeking enthusiastic consent. Which doesn't align with his character. I rewrote the Epilogue to reflect my take on this. It certainly makes for a more complicated story when issues aren’t glossed over.



That being said, if a story is well written I'm willing to forgive just about anything! However, I think when these tropes are addressed, the quality of the story dramatically improves. Thank you all for reading, I hope you all enjoyed it. Please leave comments below I enjoy hearing people's thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's that! I hope everyone likes the ending, I tried to wrap everything up and answer some of the problems that people had with the original story, which was written before the #Metoo movement happened.
> 
> A big thanks to my betas for their help.  
> Thank you all for reading, thank you all for reviewing. If you enjoyed this story, try my vampire!Draco fic called They All Taste the Same.


	9. Preview - Blackmailed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a preview of my new fic, Blackmailed, which I am currently posting. Follow the new story if you want to read more, I'm only posting the first chapter here! Hope you enjoy!

Hermione had been glaring down at her lap for the past hour. She couldn’t look up; if she did, she’d start screaming. She hadn’t managed much more than one word replies the entire morning, and her hands were currently balled into fists from the tension of keeping silent.

“Regardless, due to reduced attendance this year,” Snape continued in his bored, superior tone. “We don’t expect the Head duties to be especially overwhelming.” He shuffled some parchments on his desk. No. On _Dumbledore’s_ desk. “Any questions?”

She had lots of questions. None that could be asked or that would be answered truthfully in the present company.

Sitting next to her, Malfoy was silent and sullen. From the corner of her eye, she could see him staring absently in the general direction of the co-Headmasters, who occupied their separate desks. It was surreal: she felt like she was in a movie or some horrible alternate reality.

Snape and Malfoy.

 _Here_.

In the office of the man they had conspired to kill.

Not only were they not paying for their crimes, they’d actually been _lauded_ by the newly fallen Ministry for preventing Dumbledore from succeeding in an insurrection to overthrow the Minister of Magic. For the last six years, she had believed in Dumbledore’s trust in Snape and had thought that Harry was wrong about their professor. In the end, it was _she_ who had been wrong. Malfoy may have orchestrated the events of the Astronomy Tower under duress, but Snape had shown his true colours, and she hated him now. He was just as evil as the other Death Eaters.

Malfoy. He had almost killed Katie Bell and had poisoned Ron. And the consequences of his actions? Being named Head Boy. She was _furious_.

“Well then.” McGonagall stood up. Hermione saw her eye twitch, the only crack in her professor’s cold exterior. Clearly, she was not pleased with the arrangement either, but what choice did she have? “If there is nothing else to discuss, I will accompany you both to your quarters.”

The walk to the shared Head Boy and Head Girl dorm was tense and silent. McGonagall’s sharp heels clicked on the floor and echoed down the corridor. Hermione dug her fingers into her palms. For what felt like the hundredth time, she hoped that returning to Hogwarts had been the right decision. She had hated the idea of splitting off from Harry and Ron, but there was a warrant out for Undesirable Number One’s arrest. And since Harry was on the run, the trio deemed it best that Ron stay with him instead of returning to Hogwarts with Hermione. He wouldn’t be much help here anyway with what she had to do.

As they approached the shared living space, she felt stirrings of both disgust and fear at having to live with Malfoy. Logically, she knew that she had no right to complain. When she considered the situation that her former Head of House was in with Snape, she realized that things could have been _much_ worse.

“Pax,” Hermione muttered.

The door opened, and Malfoy followed her in. To her surprise, McGonagall came in as well and shut the door behind her. Hermione turned to face her, unsure as to why she had followed them in.

“Mister Malfoy,” McGonagall commanded him crisply. Malfoy didn’t answer, but kept a bored expression on his face. “If you harm one hair on Miss Granger’s head, I’ll make you wish you were still being _Crucio’d_ by your Aunt.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped. Malfoy blanched. Her teacher had just _threatened to torture him_.

Had that really happened to Malfoy? Bellatrix had tortured him? And how had McGonagall known?

The professor continued. “I will know if she’s been _Obliviated_. I will know if she has been _Imperiused_. You’re not as clever as you think you are.” Hermione watched the interaction, gobsmacked. McGonagall was using the familiar tone that she usually reserved for wayward students to threaten him. Somehow, she was more terrifying this way. “Threats are useless; I don’t care one fig what they do to me so long Miss Granger is not hurt in any way. _Do I make myself clear_?”

Hermione felt a surge of affection for her teacher and relief at her words. McGonagall had just ensured that she would be safe at Hogwarts. At least, until the Ministry took over, which would happen any day now. At that thought, Hermione clutched the beaded bag that never left her side, comforting herself with the assurance that she could be off grounds and in the Forest of Dean with everything she needed this very minute if she wanted.

Malfoy’s throat constricted as he struggled to form a reply. “Crystal.”

“Good.” McGonagall shifted to an obviously false cordial tone. “Now why don’t you get your things unpacked and settled in your room?”

He was being dismissed. McGonagall wanted to speak with her alone. Malfoy shifted his gaze between the two of them, shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, and belligerently sat down on the sofa.

Her professor stared down at him, visibly annoyed. By directly defying her, he was demonstrating that McGonagall didn’t have complete authority over him. And perhaps she didn’t; it was a fragile situation. They all knew her tenure as co-Headmistress was limited. The new teachers would be arriving soon, as would the implementation of the new curriculum. Snape would be the one in charge of rolling out educational reforms based on blood politics.

McGonagall sighed.

“Miss Granger,” she held out her hand to Hermione’s door. “Surely _you_ would like to unpack?”

With a sideways glance at Malfoy, who was still glaring defiantly at McGonagall, Hermione went into her room. Her professor stepped through behind her, and her heart raced as the door shut. She opened her mouth to speak, but immediately closed it when McGonagall silently shushed her with a finger to her lips.

“Just so you know, I will still be functioning as Head of House for Gryffindor…” McGonagall began to ramble about a few things which had not been mentioned in the meeting with Snape but were fairly inconsequential. As she continued to speak, she cast a nonverbal silencing spell at Hermione’s door and waved her wand around the room in a series of motions before looking pointedly at an orange glow that had revealed itself in the corner by the dresser.

Hermione’s eyes widened. What was that?

As if in answer, her teacher cast another nonverbal spell at the orange glow and rounded on her immediately.

“Now you can tell me what you need.”

Her heart rate sped up.

“Books. And not just from here. Possibly banned books.”

“Madam Pince is aware. You can trust her. What else?”

“One hour alone in Dumbledore’s office.”

She watched her professor think, tapping her index finger to her chin. “That can be arranged.” McGonagall motioned to the orange glow. “As you may have guessed, we are both being monitored. I checked earlier. Your common area is clear of eavesdropping charms – most likely because Mister Malfoy will be there. Start unpacking. Tell me about the wedding. _Finite Incantatum_.”

Hermione stuttered at first, digesting the information, but soon began to prattle on about Bill and Fleur’s wedding while she unpacked her clothing. The topic reached its end, and McGonagall performed the same nonverbal spell as before.

“What else? The castle is at your disposal.”

Hermione thought about things she would like but hadn’t been able to acquire. “Essence of Dittany, blood replenishing potions, Skele-grow, other Healing supplies for…” For what? What is it they’d be doing? “Camping. Polyjuice, or the ingredients necessary for it. Perhaps both. Veritaserum if you have it. All in unbreakable glass vials. Whatever you can spare. More Portkeys too, if you have them.” She had no idea where she, Harry, and Ron would be going, or what the boys would be doing when she joined them.

McGonagall nodded, her eyes sad. “I’ll have Poppy prepare something for you. You should be trained by her in rudimentary Healing. Filius can teach you shielding and warding spells as well while you’re here. I’ll see about the potions and some other things you may need. _Finite Incantatum_.”

McGonagall resumed talking about the new first years and reduced class sizes, transitioning to the state of O.W.L and N.E.W.T examinations before targeting the orange glow again.

“This will be the last time for now, Miss Granger. If Mister Malfoy is spying on you, he will no doubt be reporting that we conversed for this long. It will be quite difficult to arrange another private meeting between the two of us.”

Glad that she’d had the foresight to make a few more, Hermione extracted a D.A. Galleon from her bag and placed one in her professor’s hand. McGonagall looked down with a small smile, recognizing what she had been given. She curled her fingers over the Galleon and pocketed it. Glancing up to meet Hermione’s eyes, the two shared a moment to appreciate their clever defiance.

“When are they coming?” Hermione had a lot of other questions, but this was the most important one.

“Our intelligence tells us it will be within a month, but we don’t have the exact date yet. The other professors and I have prepared an evacuation plan for the few Muggle-born students that are here and the safe-houses are nearly ready. _You_ need to be prepared to leave at any time. I don’t know how much warning we will have.”

She was prepared. Hermione clutched her beaded bag again. It was becoming a security blanket of sorts.

McGonagall must have noticed how protective she was over the bag. “ _Glamour_ that. I don’t need to tell you to be discreet but, Miss Granger?”

“Yes, Headmistress?”

Her old, bony hand reached out to Hermione’s. The fingers were frail, but her grip was strong. “Do be careful.”

Hermione warmed at her teacher’s concern. “You too, and thank you for...” She motioned her head in the direction of the common area, where they had left Malfoy.

McGonagall narrowed her eyes. “One. Hair.”

Hermione laughed despite herself, and her teacher pressed her hand warmly before dispelling the charm and leaving.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

It had been a tense first week of school, to say the least, but it had been the right decision to come back. After her conversations over the summer with Harry and Ron regarding Dumbledore’s memories and theories, Hermione had known precisely where to start her research when she’d arrived at the castle. Over the last few days, she had already figured out how to destroy the Horcruxes and where to retrieve the means to do so. She now had a collection of several basilisk fangs – summoned from the Chamber of Secrets with Moaning Myrtle’s help – all sitting in a pouch in her beaded bag, ready for use.

The door to the Heads’ common area slammed shut. Hermione forced herself not to jump or look up as Malfoy stalked across to the armchair from which he usually worked. Just like the couch she had been working from every day had become ‘her’ couch via an unspoken agreement, the armchair he had commandeered for his own work had become ‘his’. She peeked surreptitiously at him as he threw himself into the aforementioned armchair and dropped his satchel to the side. He looked agitated as he bent to pull out his books and parchment, setting them on the side table, but that wasn't unusual. He was _always_ agitated.

Malfoy extended his long legs out, resting them on ‘his’ footstool and opened a Potions textbook, jaw clenching and unclenching in irritation. His eyes flicked up to hers. She looked down immediately, hoping he hadn’t noticed her studying him.

She had been agitated as well. Anyone would be, had they been forced to reside in the same living quarters with this sorry excuse for a human being. In the first few days, every time she saw him, Hermione’s fingers just itched to grab her wand and hex him, consequences be damned. How she would love to hit him with an _Oppungo_. She chuckled to herself as she pictured him swatting birds away from his face. Or maybe she could make his footstool randomly explode one day. Or curse his armchair to attack him.

But no. Satisfying as hexing him would be, it would unfortunately break the tense, silent truce they seemed to have settled into as the days passed uneventfully.

He didn’t mess with her, she didn’t mess with him.

She continued to survey him, and noted once again how he'd changed over the summer: he'd gotten taller – much taller than she was – and he'd filled out somewhat, as Quidditch players often did. She had never noticed much about Malfoy before, but now that she saw him all the time in their quarters, absent of Crabbe, Goyle, or any of his other Slytherin cronies, she found herself... Noticing.

Giving herself a mental shake, Hermione returned her focus to her work. She had started a notebook where she’d listed notes from Dumbledore’s theories about Voldemort: his motivations, his psychology, and his Horcruxes. It also contained ideas that she had, flashes of inspiration, and scattered notes from the books she’d pulled from the library. She had even drawn a crude sketch of the locket that Harry and Dumbledore had found in the cave, and she’d copied the note that R.A.B. had left word for word. She didn’t _need_ the notebook to remember these things, but it helped her to brainstorm in the absence of Harry and Ron to bounce ideas off of.

She saw Malfoy stretch his long limbs in her peripheral vision, groaning as he did so and interrupting her thoughts. The stretching and contracting of his limbs showed off the contours and muscular shape of his body. She glanced over at him suspiciously, and then looked down before he noticed that she was watching him stretch. Why was he even here in the common room, anyway? Why not go off with his Slytherin friends in the library?

Was it possible that he was spying on her, like McGonagall had intimated? And if so, to what end? He hadn’t done anything to her yet. If he did bear her ill will, it appeared that McGonagall’s threat had worked.

For now.

Malfoy was a Death Eater. He might not be a killer, but he was still dangerous and unpredictable. He had let Death Eaters into Hogwarts and had done it _right under Dumbledore’s nose_. She’d have to stay vigilant in his presence.

If he was under orders like last year, how far would he go to follow them?

She didn’t know. She didn’t want to find out.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Days passed under the stifling blanket of the dormitory’s quiet tension. Malfoy hadn’t spoken to her at all since McGonagall had threatened him that first day, and their common area was always strained and silent. Hermione supposed she should be thankful for that. She hadn’t known what to expect, but this was infinitely better than the worst of what she had imagined.

But it surprised her. Where was the Draco Malfoy who hadn't hesitated when insulting her looks, friends, or blood status in years past? The spoiled, childish git who'd threatened and bragged in equal measure about his father and family name? Though she remained angry with him – furious, even – the rage she had felt that first day in the Headmaster’s office had lessened in the face of his reserve, abating to a distant thrum edged with confusion and suspicion.

Across the common area from one another, they worked in silence, the only sounds being the occasional flip of a page or scratching of quill across parchment. She heard an impatient exhale of breath and glanced up from her work to see Malfoy’s eyes flick back down to his coursework. She could have sworn that he had been staring at her. And not for the first time.

She wondered what he thought of their Head Boy/Head Girl arrangement. In order to concentrate on Horcrux research and her Healing and Warding training, Hermione hadn’t gone to any classes or engaged in any Head duties. She couldn’t rightly say what the Head duties even _were_. It was uncharacteristic behavior from her and, therefore, extremely suspicious. Her cover story was that she was working on independent studies this year, but she didn’t think that anyone bought it. So far, Malfoy didn’t seem to be bothered by her lack of participation in Head Duties, and if he’d noticed that she wasn’t attending class, he didn’t mention it. She assumed that if he really needed her for administrative business, he’d tell her. But he hadn’t, and she certainly wasn’t going to ask.

As she looked at him, Hermione noticed that his lips had pursed when he’d paused his writing, looking back between his textbook and the parchment, perhaps thinking about how best to phrase his thoughts. She watched as he brought his thumb up to his mouth and licked it with his pink tongue before reaching to another textbook and flipping the page.

She pondered what she really knew about him and what these few weeks with him meant, if anything. She still didn’t know what his intentions towards her were. Was he spying, or was he simply back for an irregular seventh year?

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

A few days later, Hermione stood in the small dorm kitchen, waiting for the kettle to boil. She mentally reviewed Madam Pomfrey's latest lesson, a suturing incantation for shallow wounds. As her fingers mimicked the proper wand movement, her eyes slid across the common area, pausing on where Malfoy sat, parchment in front of him. He paused in his writing, dipping his quill in his inkwell and tapping the excess off. His hair fell loosely in front of his eyes, and she followed the lines of his jaw to his cheekbones. He had rolled his sleeves up, and she watched the muscles of his forearms flex as he committed thought to parchment.

As her gaze fell to his hands, she shook herself and resumed practicing the suturing charm. As she mumbled the incantation, Malfoy stretched his limbs. Her eyes were once again drawn to the movement.

And there it was: the Dark Mark.

She had known that he had one, but knowing in abstract and seeing in reality were two very different things. Hermione felt a wave of visceral disgust: her limbs felt chilled, and the taste of bile was strong on her tongue.

She had never seen the Mark before, let alone _his,_ and she stared at the inside of his forearm with morbid curiosity. It rippled with the movements of Malfoy’s muscles as he stretched. In a detached way, she was fascinated at the stark contrast of the brand against the paleness of his skin.

The snake coming out of the skull was almost… Phallic.

At that thought, she registered that Malfoy’s arm was no longer moving. She belatedly realized that she had been staring for quite a long time, quietly ensconced in her thoughts, and quickly looked up. Malfoy had noticed her gaze and was staring right back at her with piercing grey eyes.

A jolt of fear ran down her spine. She’d never looked at him directly in the eyes like that. Not recently, anyway. He continued to stare at her. Something seemed to surface in his eyes – perhaps defiance – before they hardened. He drew his brows together slowly.

Blushing, she glanced down and busied herself with making her tea. Hermione chastised herself for feeling embarrassed; why should she be the one who felt skittish and awkward about noticing his Mark? And anyways, it wasn’t like it was the first time he had caught her staring. He knew she had been. There was nothing _else_ to bloody look at in their common room. She had stared at his shoulders beneath his school uniform. At his long, muscular legs when he stretched. At his face. At his tongue. And now, at his Dark Mark.

She supposed it was a mixture of curiosity and the fact that there wasn’t much else to do here. They were still existing in stilted silence, but had nonetheless fallen into a routine that allowed each the maximum amount of space with the minimum amount of contact with one another. As the days passed, her angry confusion had turned to outright curiosity: aside from the never ending silence, Malfoy had treated her almost politely from the first. Puzzled, she found herself glancing his way more often. That and, well… A small part of her supposed that he _was_ rather good looking. Much as she was loath to admit.

She took comfort in the thought that she had caught him staring at her as well. Multiple times. Especially any time she bent over or stretched to reach something in the kitchenette. Like her, he had tried to hide his gaze.

But this was different. It was the first time that there was _mutual acknowledgment,_ albeit unspoken, of the fact that she had been staring at him.

Feeling heavily disconcerted, she retreated to her couch with her tea. She set it down on the coffee table, opened her book, and stared at the page. She could still taste the acidic remains of her disgust, but it was tempered by a strong swell of frustrated interest. He hadn’t done anything, hadn’t even sneered at her or called her a Mudblood. Was he biding his time, or was he harmless?

Like a moth drawn to a flame, she flicked her eyes back to Malfoy. He had rolled down his sleeves. Perhaps he was embarrassed that she had seen his Dark Mark.

He must have sensed her eyes on him again, but she managed to lower hers just in time. Hermione thought she saw him smirk, but she _certainly_ wasn’t going to check.

McGonagall had told her that if she felt threatened by him in any way, she could move to Gryffindor Tower. But so far, nothing had happened. Malfoy left her alone, didn’t talk to her, and had the decency to hide the fact that he stared at her every so often.

She did exactly the same.

The silence, while grating, was preferable to other scenarios she had envisioned.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The silence between them didn’t last much longer.

She was poring over a book of known and rumored historical artifacts of the Four Founders when Malfoy emerged from his room, sweaty from flying, in just a towel wrapped around his hips. Her eyes widened as his naked chest and torso came into her line of sight. He padded across the common area to their shared bathroom as if nothing was amiss.

Feeling flustered she burst out, “You can’t just walk around half-naked in our common area!”

Malfoy’s hand paused on the bathroom doorknob, and he turned to face her, his grey eyes focused on her hazel ones. She felt a thrill pass through her as they made direct eye contact for the second time in as many days. The prat really did have beautiful eyes. She couldn’t deny it, though she wanted to.

Death Eater. Prat. It didn’t matter what the hell his eyes looked like. Hermione instantly regretted saying anything. It was clear that he had done this on purpose to get a reaction. Without thinking, she had given him one.

Slowly, his body turned toward her and he walked closer, clad only in his towel. She felt _extremely_ uncomfortable as he neared, taking up more of her vision, crowding her personal space. There was no safe place to look, but she couldn’t look away; that would be cowardly, and he would win whatever game he was playing. And she couldn’t look down because then she’d be ogling his body and, again, he would win. All she could do was look into those intense grey eyes of his. Somehow, it _still_ felt like he was winning.

She was sitting, he was standing, and her face was at the level of his… Well. Hermione didn’t like their positions, but if she stood up she’d be even closer to him and his naked chest. She could already smell him in all his sweaty, masculine glory, and the scent was causing her stomach to perform unwanted little flips. Her heart was thudding in her chest from his proximity.

What the _hell_ was he doing?

She swallowed the lump in her throat as he towered over her: pale, sweaty, half-naked, and completely at ease with the display of his lean, muscled body to her. Malfoy was fit, and he knew it. Even in her peripheral vision, she could see the V of his abdomen half hidden by the towel. _Merlin_. There was an angry red scar across his chest – probably from when Harry had cursed him last year.

His eyebrows raised in mock query. “Why not?”

She struggled not to let her eyes flick to his Dark Mark, a reminder that even if he’d refused to kill, he was still dangerous. He tilted his forearm, as if daring her to look at it. Daring her to say something.

Was he _threatening_ her? She narrowed her eyes at him.

“Because this is a working area and it requires a certain level of professionalism,” she answered, proud that she kept her voice steady. That her eyes hadn’t drifted elsewhere. “You have your room and the loo to use as your own personal nudist colony.”

“Mmmm,” was his non-committal reply.

He looked down into her eyes for a few seconds, clearly amused, and shifted his gaze to her books and what she had been writing in her notebook. Her chest tightened with a rush of terror.

_Bollocks!_

She had several books on the Founding Four open on the table and had been writing in her notebook about potential artifacts that Voldemort could have made into Horcruxes. Winning whatever _game_ Malfoy was playing was far less important than concealing her mission with Ron and Harry. She allowed herself to show how uncomfortable his presence made her – it was a good excuse to get herself and her research the hell out of his line of sight – and gathered up her materials.

“Professionalism, Malfoy,” she repeated, cradling her books in her arms.

There, her voice sounded stern that time. Even disdainful. She stood up to go back to her bedroom, far closer to his half-naked body than she wanted to be. He raised an eyebrow at her and didn’t move out of her way, forcing her to brush against his chest as she walked past him. She could feel him watching her backside as she closed her bedroom door.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Hermione didn’t want to admit it, but she had to consider that Malfoy had approached her on purpose yesterday. Not just to make her uncomfortable, but also to see what she’d been researching. She hadn’t been doing any research in the library because she’d be too exposed there, and Malfoy had always left her alone in the common room, not seeming to care what she was reading or working on. However, things had changed since he had quite possibly seen what she had been writing. Even though he couldn’t possibly understand why her work was so important, if he was reporting on her activities, Voldemort would understand what she was after. Malfoy knowing about her research into the Founders’ artifacts was a disaster to the future of the war.

She considered _Obliviating_ him but didn’t know if he had actually seen anything. And maybe he _had_ only wanted to make her uncomfortable, with no ulterior motive. Aside from that, she’d have to figure out how to catch him unawares long enough to not botch the spell. If she failed, she didn’t know how he would react, but he would certainly be angry. Maybe even angry enough to attack her. She needed time to remove his memory properly.

In the meantime, Hermione needed a solution that would allow her to keep working. She couldn’t adequately do research in her bedroom, so instead she _Glamoured_ the books she had taken out of the library and, of course, her notebook. Despite her added precautions, Malfoy hadn’t approached her again. But she knew she couldn’t become complacent. She didn’t know what his role was in this war, or what he was capable of. She had no idea what was going on in his head or what he was thinking.

One thing that _was_ obvious, regardless of his motivation, was that he was messing with her. Instead of changing in his room or their shared bathroom like a normal, _decent_ human being, he had taken to walking back and forth in his towel every time he had to shower. She didn’t know what she hated more: Malfoy, all masculine and sweaty from Quidditch, or Malfoy, fresh and clean from the shower, dripping water and smelling pleasantly of pine.

At first, she had closed her eyes when he emerged from his room, nude but for the scrap of cloth that was much too small for her comfort. Quickly, she realized that this was irresponsible; he could easily summon her work or steal something if she wasn’t paying attention to what he was doing. She resigned herself to having to endure his blatant attempts to goad her, regardless of how flustered and embarrassed they made her feel. So long as he stayed away from her Horcrux research, she didn’t say anything and hoped the situation wouldn’t escalate further.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The situation did escalate.

Malfoy exited the loo for the umpteenth time, towel wrapped around his torso and smelling like whatever hormone producing concoction he showered with. Hermione fought the blush stealing across her cheeks. Why did she have this same reaction every single time? How had she not become used to him yet? Despite her efforts at nonchalance, she was sure that he knew that she struggled not to look at him. This time, instead of continuing on to his bedroom, he stopped in their kitchenette. She abandoned her attempts at stealth and watched him fill a glass of water.

“Thirsty?” he asked in a low voice.

He leaned against the counter, supporting himself with his forearm. He locked eyes with her and sipped from his glass. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and he placed the cup down on the counter with a clink. She watched his mouth as his tongue flicked across his lower lip, catching an errant droplet of water.

Why, oh why, was he so damned good looking?

Hermione put her quill down. She’d had enough of his games. It was time for some Gryffindor directness to put an end to all this.

“Thirsty for what?” she countered. “Water? Or you?”

He raised his eyebrows, likely in surprise that she’d dare call him out like that. “Would you prefer something… Harder?”

She huffed. “No, thanks, I’m not interested in hard things. Drinks or otherwise.” That earned her a soft laugh. “Just my evening tea.”

“You’re funny, Granger.”

He sounded surprised, like he was re-evaluating her. As if he would know a sense of humor if it tap danced in front of him. Well, maybe he’d notice if it were tap dancing half-naked, wrapped in a towel in front of him.

“Mmmm,” she replied, hoping he would get the hint that she had no interest in talking to him.

She turned back to her notebook. She could see from the corner of her eye that he was still fiddling about in the kitchen with that horrible towel looking like it was ready to fall off at any moment. She was almost tempted to perform a nonverbal spell and make it fall; that would teach him to prance around half-naked. But then, he’d be _fully_ naked. He probably wouldn’t be embarrassed by that in the least. He’d just walk around her with his… _Thing_ on display. Hermione rubbed her cheek in frustration and flipped the page of one of her books.

After a few moments, Malfoy started walking over in her direction. She made sure the glamours on her research were in place before he reached her. To her surprise, he sat down beside her on the couch and placed two cups of tea on the coffee table before them. As he summoned spoons and napkins, she stared in disbelief. Hermione didn’t know what horrified her more: the fact that Draco Malfoy, of all people, had made her tea, or that he now sat sprawled on the couch next to her, legs spread and the towel partially open.

She chanced a glance down and caught a glimpse of a muscled thigh through the V of the opening in the towel. If she changed her vantage point, she’d be able to look straight up and see his _bits_ _!_ His behavior was so irritatingly perverse, and she knew that he was doing it on purpose. Hopefully he thought that she was staring at the teacups instead of at his muscular legs, imagining what she couldn’t see.

“You made me tea.”

It wasn’t a question, but a fact stated in disbelief. She couldn’t understand why he would do such a thing.

“Sugar? Milk?” Conjuring both, he ignored her incredulity as she turned to look up at him. He had an amused smirk on his lips.

She wasn’t going to avoid how odd this all was. Derision and bigotry for the first four years that she had known him. Hounding the D.A. via his participation on the Inquisitorial Squad in fifth year. Collusion with Death Eaters last year. Now she was supposed to believe that he was past all that and wanted to, what? Be nice to her? _Seduce_ her? What the hell was this?

“Draco Pureblood Elitist Malfoy made – no, wait – _served_ Hermione Muggle-born Granger tea.”

“Apparently so,” he answered in a tone that was too familiar for her liking.

She narrowed her eyes. He wasn’t giving away anything through his vocal tone or facial expression. His bright grey eyes remained slightly flirtatious and... Curious.

She could hear Mad-Eye Moody’s warnings about drinks resonating loudly in her head. Was he trying to slip her a potion? If he were spying on her, the situation would make more sense. She hadn’t attended a single class or performed any of the mandatory Head duties; she would be suspicious of her presence as well if she were him. Was he trying to get her to let her guard down in order to find out what she was doing back at Hogwarts?

She looked at the tea cups. If he was trying to slip her something, she guessed that it would knock her out so that he could look at her work without her knowing. Or maybe Veritaserum to get her to talk before she fled to her room. In any case, if he was trying to drug her, it would be because he thought there was good reason to after what he had seen in her notebook a few days ago.

But slipping her something would be too obvious. Wouldn’t it?

Hermione made a decision. She had to _Obliviate_ him, and this was the perfect opportunity. She would switch the cups so that he drank the presumably spiked tea. Assuming there was some kind of incapacitating potion in the brew, she could cast on him while he was knocked out.

“Can you at least get dressed?” That would send him back to his room so she could make the switch, and make her less uncomfortable.

He smirked. “Only because you begged.”

Hermione scoffed. “I did not _beg_.”

Malfoy sauntered back to his room. Hermione saw the towel drop right before he closed his door, revealing his pale arse for a half-second.

 _Merlin_. She brushed aside her warring feelings of frustration and whatever had sparked low in her gut.

Quickly, she picked up her tea and sniffed it. She couldn’t smell anything aside from the chamomile. She ran her wand over the tea a few times – no Calming Draught, no Dreamless Sleep, no Veritaserum – but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Those were simply the potions that she supposed she would employ if she were in his position. Taking a wild guess, she waved her wand and checked for Amortentia. Nothing. She gnawed on her lip in thought and then switched their cups. Whatever he spiked her tea with, he’d be the one drinking it.

She pursed her mouth in thought, still uneasy with the situation. She packed her notebook and other library books away into her beaded bag and placed it inside her room where it was protected by the password entry and her wards. Whatever was going to happen with this tea, at least her research was safe from his prying eyes.

She was back on the couch, stirring sugar into her tea with what she hoped was convincing disinterest when Malfoy came out of his room, clothed in dark green pajama trousers and no shirt. She rolled her eyes. The man had no shame.

“Shirt?” she asked impatiently.

“No, thanks,” he replied lightly. He sat next to her on the couch, facing his torso towards her and draping one arm over the back cushion. His Dark Mark was on full display, taunting her. Threatening her. What a prick he was. If she weren’t so anxious to see him drink the tea, she would have left for her room. He was up to something and she didn’t know what or why.

She brought the tea close to her mouth and blew the steam away, trying to cool it a bit. She tried not to watch him as he reached for his own cup on the table. If he noticed that she had swapped the cups, he didn’t let on. She kept her eyes forward, trying not to show how anxious she was for him to drink the sodding tea. She took a slow sip of her own and swallowed, showing him that she was drinking, and then turned to face him.

He held the cup to his mouth but did not lift it to drink. His eyes were fixed on hers. They weren’t flirtatious anymore, but were instead cold and calculating. Did he notice that she had swapped the cups? She stared back, unwavering, and took a long, slow sip in challenge. She swallowed. After a few seconds, the corner of his mouth lifted, and he, too, took a sip. She watched him swallow, and they stared at one another for a few seconds more. Some of his hair had dried. A few strands had come forward to fan over his brow, while the rest was still damp and slicked back from his shower.

She took another slow sip. “So, what’s this about, Malfoy?”

His tone was slightly scolding. “You’re not going to thank me for the tea?”

“Thank you for the tea.” She blinked at him. “So, what’s this about, Malfoy?”

He chuckled in reply. “You’re not one to beat around the bush.”

“You’re not one to answer questions.” The man was as slippery as an eel.

He extended the index finger curled around his cup and pointed it at her. “Touche.”

He stared at her over the rim of his cup and took another long sip, eyes never straying from her face. His gaze was unsettling, and Hermione felt her stomach flutter. She didn’t think she could ever look at these teacups in the same way again.

“Are you going to stare at me all night?”

“I’d prefer to do other things with you all night,” he replied enticingly.

Her throat constricted as her eyes flickered down to his bare chest, to his abdomen, to his… She wasn’t used to being flirted with so blatantly.

“That’s all this is? Sex?”

He licked his lips, and her eyes followed the movement of his tongue. “What else did you think it was?”

Espionage? Harm to her person or to her friends? There was a war going on. The balance of power at Hogwarts could change any day, and they were on opposing sides.

“I have no idea,” she answered. “But I don’t believe for one minute that you’d dare sully yourself with a Muggle-born.”

He leaned in closer and she struggled to keep her breathing even. “Maybe I _want_ to be sullied.”

_Too close!_

She blushed from his proximity and his heated gaze. Sod it all! She wasn’t supposed to have to worry about Draco _fucking_ Malfoy _flirting_ with her. She was supposed to be beneath him. She was supposed to repulse him. It appeared that he took the view that Muggle-borns could be used for sex, if nothing else.

She curled her lip in disgust. He was repulsive.

Why couldn’t some other Death Eater spawn have been Head Boy? Someone less attractive? Someone less interested in her? She never thought she’d see the day where she would prefer to room with someone who thought her blood status made her too filthy to touch.

Hermione’s discomfort was rising, and she desperately wanted to escape this conversation. The only reason she was still here talking with him was to see if he exhibited any potion-induced effects from the switched tea cups. She didn’t know how long she would have to wait though. That would depend entirely on the dosage and the content of the potion, and she didn’t know either one of those details.

He studied her face while she took another sip and asked with a smile, “Did you think I slipped something in your tea?”

Immediately she sputtered, coughing, and had to put her teacup on the coffee table so that she wouldn’t spill it on herself. After regaining her composure and wiping her mouth with the napkin that he calmly held out to her, she looked up to see him observing her with amused interest. He must have noticed that she’d swapped the cups. She saw the gears turning in his head as he took another slow, measured sip. He wasn’t worried about her swapping the teacups. Which could mean that he had anticipated that she would have been paranoid enough to do so and spiked his own instead. But that would have been presumptuous, quite a gamble.

He spoke, as if continuing her thoughts. “Perhaps I spiked both cups and took an antidote in my room.”

 _Inconceivable_ _!*_

She sucked in a breath. Which potion would that even work with? Dreamless Sleep? Sometimes people overdosed and had to be treated.

“Did you?”

He tsked at her. “Are you always this paranoid, Granger? Sometimes tea is just tea.”

She hated the way he danced around their situation. Pretending there was no war and that they weren’t on opposing sides of it. “You’d given me no indication until a few days ago that you had even the slightest interest in me. Are you spying on me? Do you think sex will get you information?”

His eyebrows rose to the top of his forehead. Clearly, he wasn’t used to this much directness. It unsettled him.

_Good._

“Will it?” he asked curiously.

She cursed inwardly. Had she just inadvertently let him know that there was something to spy _on_? But that was obvious already, with her here at school yet not doing anything having to _do_ with school. Wasn’t it? Her cover story wasn’t believable. _She_ certainly wouldn’t have believed it, and he was an intelligent Slytherin. As slick and slimy as they came.

“Enough, Malfoy,” she said, angry with herself. “ _What do you want_?”

He stretched his long limbs with a groan, pushing his bare foot against her calf as he did so. She scowled at his intrusive appendage. Reaching upwards, he looked at the ceiling and then back to her, contemplating his reply as he contracted his limbs.

“I’m bored, waiting for the axe to fall.” He eyed her chest and her legs. “You’re sexy. It’s that simple.”

Hermione stared at him. They were all waiting for the axe to fall here at Hogwarts. But she didn’t believe for a second that it was his only motivation.

Regardless, if there was no potion effect to observe, she didn’t have to be in his company anymore. He wasn’t forthcoming about _anything._ She didn’t have the patience to pry more out of him and was afraid of what she’d do if she spent more time next to his half-naked body. If she _had_ ingested something, she didn’t want to be around him when the potion started manifesting itself. She couldn’t deny that she was attracted to him anymore, and she sure as hell couldn’t deny that he was dangerous.

She set her teacup on the coffee table with a clink and walked back to her room.

“Good night, Malfoy,” she said. She almost wished there was something in the tea to make that whole ordeal worthwhile.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

There was nothing in the tea.

But that didn’t mean anything. Not knowing what Malfoy was up to when he was so obviously up to _something_ was making Hermione nervous. Over the next few days, she left their common room to work in the library, despite there being more of a danger that her research would be noticed by someone. When they did cross paths in the common room, he kept staring at her, overtly leering sometimes, and forcing her to avert her eyes from his intensity. He wasn’t even trying to hide his appreciation for her legs, her arse, or her breasts. His blatant interest made her feel exposed, naked, and vulnerable. The library provided a welcome respite.

She didn’t know what the ‘tea incident’ was supposed to achieve. Malfoy had admitted that he was trying to seduce her, but she didn’t understand _why_. She wasn’t the only attractive woman at Hogwarts. There must be an ulterior motive aside from being _bored_. He was a Death Eater, for Merlin’s sake. She was Muggle-born and working with the Order of the Phoenix, although he might not know that. Perhaps the purpose of the tea incident was to show her that there _was_ no ulterior motive. Perhaps he knew that she would have suspected he’d spike the tea. When it became obvious that he didn’t, maybe he thought she’d let her guard down.

Or maybe the tea incident was designed to put her more on edge.

Hermione rubbed her forehead in frustration. She could go in these circles of logic for hours. What she needed was _sleep_. Until last year, she wouldn’t have thought Malfoy capable of much beyond taunting or hexing behind the safety of Crabbe and Goyle. However, sixth year had shown him to be quite devious, patient, and calculating, even if his actions were coerced by the threat to his life and those of his parents.

She couldn’t underestimate him.

Looking up, she found the biography of Rowena Ravenclaw that she had been looking for and summoned it from the top shelf. Hermione was fairly certain that she had identified a few of the different objects Voldemort had used as Horcruxes, but she didn’t know where the objects were. She was also fairly certain that he would have wanted to use Godric’s sword, but per McGonagall’s promise, Hermione had inspected it when Snape was away and found that it had not been tampered with. In the wake of this disappointment, Hermione had thrown herself into her research with a renewed resolve. Exhausted, she walked back to her table and what she found nearly made her faint.

It was empty.

Her beaded bag, _and everything in it_ , was gone.

The Portkey for when she had to evacuate Hogwarts, her notebook about the Horcruxes, the basilisk fangs, her camping supplies, the Healing supplies, the potions ingredients, the ready-made Polyjuice potion that Professor McGonagall had secured for her, the copy of The Tales of Beetle the Bard that Dumbledore had left her, her Muggle money and her Wizarding money.

All gone.

How could she be so careless?!

It must have been from force of habit. In the Heads’ common room, she packed everything up, safely tucked away in her room or on her person _at all times,_ even when she used the loo, so as to prevent Malfoy from knowing what she was doing. In the library, she was used to leaving her work out on the table if she had to leave for a few minutes. She looked around, feeling panicked. There were some third years a few tables away, but no one else was in her section. She walked over to them and asked who had been at her table. They hadn’t seen anyone.

She tried summoning her bag, pointing at various directions in the library.

Nothing.

She felt the blood rushing to her head as panic overtook her.

Trying to contain her alarm internally so no one would realize something was wrong, she walked methodically around the library to see who else was studying. Specifically, she looked for late year Slytherins. There were a few, but they didn’t seem excited or conspiratorial. They were quiet, each ensconced in their own homework. Hoping against hope, she tried summoning her bag again from the direction of their table.

Nothing.

Biting her lip, she discreetly shot several _Finite’s_ in their direction to see if anything disillusioned or shrunken would appear or enlarge.

Her heart sank. _Nothing._

She walked quickly, row by row, combing the entire library while her heart thudded in her chest, chastising herself for being so stupid. She summoned. She moved stacks of books so that she could look behind them. She checked under tables, on chairs, and in corners. She cast _Finite’s_. Every time she passed a table with someone studying, she checked for her bag. Even the first years.

Nothing, nothing, _nothing_.

Before she knew it, the library was closing. Nodding to Hermione on the way to the exit, Madam Pince locked the doors, allowing her to stay as long as she wanted. Hermione left no corner untouched in her tireless search of the cavernous room.

At two in the morning, she was forced to concede that it wasn’t here.

Someone had stolen her beaded bag.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

The next morning, Hermione woke up late. She hadn’t slept well, tossing and turning fitfully. Panicked, angry tears streaked down her face when she awoke. She was furious with herself and didn’t know what to do. She didn’t even know where to _start_.

No one who had been in the library with her last night had taken her bag. She had no idea who, then, had swiped it. Aside from the fact that she was now royally _fucked_ , if it fell into the wrong hands and the charms disguising the information in her notebook were dispelled, everything she, Harry, and Ron knew or suspected about their Horcrux mission would be compromised.

 _Everything_.

Voldemort would know they were after his Horcruxes, and the war would be lost.

Steeling herself with a shake, she wiped her eyes and quickly dressed, thinking back to the older Slytherins who had been in the library last night, albeit in a different section than she was. Nott, Parkinson, and Zabini. Nott and Parkinson each had fathers that were active Death Eaters. They would be the most likely suspects. As Head girl, Hermione could go into the Slytherin dorms and corner them. Maybe she could go while they were in class and search their dorms. She groaned inwardly. What a mess this was.

She emerged from her bedroom and stood in the Heads’ common room, barely noticing Malfoy perched in the corner. She tried summoning her bag just in case Malfoy had it for some reason, but nothing was produced by her spell. She exhaled in frustration.

She was just so _angry_ with herself.

Hermione finally looked over at Malfoy where he was studying in his armchair, long legs extended over his footstool. His sleeves were rolled up so that she could see his Dark Mark. His tie was loose, and the top button of his white shirt was undone. He hadn’t been in the library last night. However, despite witnessing her furiously casting summoning charms in their common room a few moments ago, he had remained silent. Not even making eye contact. It was a stark change from the heated gazes he had been directing her way recently.

Instantly, she became suspicious.

She watched as he distractedly moved the feather of his quill back and forth across his lips in gentle motions as he read from his potions textbook. By now, he must have known that she was staring at him, but he _still_ didn’t look up. Not even to leer at her. Yes, even if she hadn’t seen him in the library, she was certain that he’d had something to do with her bag’s disappearance. The change in his behavior was too coincidental.

“Okay Malfoy, where is it?” she snarled at him.

He didn’t pause the movement of the quill across his lips, but his grey eyes flicked up to her. A small smile appeared behind the feather.

“Care to be more specific?”

Malfoy had been expecting this. He knew _exactly_ what she was talking about. She could see it in his smug expression.

“You swiped my bag!” she yelled and stomped her foot. “I want it back!”

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Why would I take your bag?”

She’d had enough of his evasions and non-answers.

Hermione pulled her wand, but he was quicker and had already drawn. By the time she cast a nonverbal disarming spell, he had countered with a nonverbal shield. The yellow light reflected back towards her. She dispelled it with a flick of her wrist, and it careened off into the ground. Her heart thudded in her chest from the rush of adrenaline. Malfoy looked at her, the cold, calculating gaze returning to his face.

“Even if you beat me in a duel, you won’t force me to give it to you.”

Finally, an admission that he had it. That was progress.

“Won’t I?” she threatened, wand still raised. “How the _hell_ do you know what I’ll do, Malfoy?”

“Are you in the habit of using Unforgivables?” he asked flippantly. Apparently unruffled by her menacing tone, he twirled his wand in his fingers. His posture was downright casual.

Hermione flinched, heart racing faster _._ She considered him, sitting there so calmly at the end of her wand point. She didn’t hate him, so the Cruciatus wouldn’t work. She didn’t have it in her to cast it, anyway. She could Imperius him; that didn’t require hatred. But _would_ she? He watched her mull his question over and his smirk widened, as if he knew the answer before she did. Use of the Imperius would land her in Azkaban. She didn’t know if she’d be forgiven for a war crime, even if it would ensure the secrecy and success of their mission, and ultimately, the end of the war.

Merlin. She wanted to throttle him. She wanted to smack him. She wanted to hex him. She wanted to _hurt_ him. But none of that would be enough to make him give her back her bag. As McGonagall had already pointed out, he had suffered much worse.

“Give it _back_ , Malfoy!” she growled at him, breathing heavily, her heart pounding in her chest.

He didn’t immediately respond, but continued to idly twirl his wand with his fingers.

“No,” he finally replied, watching her with amusement.

God _fucking_ dammit!

She had no leverage. If she wasn’t willing to hex him with anything painful enough to force him into submission, then he simply wouldn’t return it. She had nothing to force him _with_. She stomped her foot in frustration again and let out a shriek.

He _chuckled_.

The slimy little _shit_ , sitting in his armchair, had the _audacity_ to chuckle at her.

She didn’t know what he knew, but the longer he had her bag, the more likely it was that he’d get past the charms on her notebook - if he hadn’t already done so. She had to prevent that from happening, and if she couldn’t… She’d have to Obliviate him after she got it back.

But what else could she do to get it back, if force was out of the question? Maybe there was another way. He must want something from her. He wouldn’t have revealed that he had her bag otherwise. He would have simply passed on the knowledge elsewhere. But what could he possibly want from her?

“Give. It. Back.” She still had her wand out, pointed at him. “Please.”

He snapped his book closed, tossed it to the side, and stood. He made a show of placing his wand on the nearby end table and walked closer to her, taunting her in that he knew she wouldn’t hex him. There was no point. She lowered her wand in defeat and exhaled harshly. She wanted to punch him. It was third year all over again.

He closed in on her, and in that moment, she hated their height differential. He used it to intimidate her while he spoke. “You won’t torture me, and you won’t compel me. So why would I? What could you _possibly_ have that I would want in exchange?”

Yes, it was as she thought. He was offering her a trade. He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels while she thought through his question. What _did_ she have that he would want? Information? Like hell she would give him information.

 _Nothing!_ She had _nothing_ to leverage. She gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to scream.

Well.

Nothing except _that_.

According to the tea incident, he wanted to have sex with her. Would she sleep with him to get her bag back?

Yes. Yes, she would. It was a war. They had to defeat Voldemort. She didn’t even need to think about it. Of course she would. She considered briefly what Harry and Ron would think. More specifically, about how Ron would react. Mentally shaking herself, she pushed those thoughts aside. It didn’t _matter_ what they thought, or what anyone thought. This was necessary. It had to be done.

He watched the emotions playing across her face with a lascivious smile.

“I’ll have sex with you,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. His face betrayed nothing; if he was surprised at her offer, she couldn’t tell. “And then you have to return my bag to me and allow yourself and anyone else who has seen the contents of it to be _Obliviated_.”

“ _Obliviation_?” He gave a low whistle. “Messing around in my head? The price just got higher, Granger.”

Hermione looked at him questioningly. “What else would you want besides sex?”

She’d thought she had him figured out. She’d thought she’d get everything back. _Now_ what?

This clusterfuck of a situation was rapidly spiraling even further out of control, and she felt her panic rising. If he had her bag for much longer, he would dispel the charms on her notebook. He would find out about the Horcruxes. He would tell Voldemort. They would all die.

_What the fuck did he want?_

He approached and, instead of stopping in front of her, circled her in appraisal. She flushed under the heat of his gaze as his footfalls padded the floor around her. His leisurely perusal of her body made something low in her stomach twist. Hermione ignored the feeling, trying not to think about what it meant. She had to focus on the situation at hand.

“Be creative. Make it worth my while.”

She was going to scream. She didn’t have _time_ for this!

What an arrogant, smug bastard. Creative? All she knew was that she had offered to have sex with him, and it wasn’t good enough. What _else_ did he want? She had to do _something_ to please him.

To _please_ him.

Maybe he already knew what he wanted. She threw the offer back at him.

“One evening. For one evening I’ll do…” She took a deep breath to steel herself. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

 _Dammit!_ She needed her bag. Now.

Come on Malfoy, you _sodding_ prick.

He stopped in front of her, looming over her body, close. So close that she felt his hot breath on the top of her head. Slowly, she looked up from the shirt on his chest and into his eyes. They were hooded, and darker than she remembered.

“What _ever_ I want?” His voice was hushed and deep, and she felt it in her bones.

“Yes,” she whispered, and did her best to still the fear and sick thrill of anticipation that had sparked inside her.

“Alright, Granger,” he said with a smirk, and then spoke in a low voice. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

_Fuck._

She had no idea what she had just agreed to.

oooooooooooooooooooooooo

This is just a preview! For updates, follow the story in the link below. Hope you enjoy!

<https://archiveofourown.org/works/29115723/chapters/71473971>


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